Miss Boutelle flushed a little. Im warm enough when walking, she said coldly. Bob glanced at her smart little French shoes, and thought otherwise. He said nothing, but hastily bundled his two guests downstairs and into the street. The whirlwind dance of the snow made the sleigh an indistinct bulk in the glittering darkness, and as the young girl for an instant stood dazedly still, Bob incontinently lifted her from her feet, deposited her in the vehicle, dropped Jimmy in her lap, and wrapped them both tightly in the bearskin. Her weight, which was scarcely more than a childs, struck him in that moment as being tantalizingly incongruous to the matronly severity of her manner and its strange effect upon him. He then jumped in himself, taking the direction from his companion, and drove off through the storm.
The wind and darkness were not favorable to conversation, and only once did he break the silence. Is there any one who would be likely to remembermewhere we are going? he asked, in a lull of the storm.
Miss Boutelle uncovered enough of her face to glance at him curiously. Hardly! You know the children came here from the Noth after your mothers death, while you were in California.
Of course, returned Bob hurriedly; I was only thinkingyou know that some of my old friends might have called, and then collapsed into silence.
After a pause a voice came icily, although under the furs: Perhaps youd prefer that your arrival be kept secret from the public? But they seem to have already recognized you at the hotel from your inquiry about Ricketts, and the photograph Jimmy had already shown them two weeks ago. Bob remembered the clerks familiar manner and the omission to ask him to register. But it need go no further, if you like, she added, with a slight return of her previous scorn.
Ive no reason for keeping it secret, said Bob stoutly.
No other words were exchanged until the sleigh drew up before a plain wooden house in the suburbs of the town. Bob could see at a glance that it represented the income of some careful artisan or small shopkeeper, and that it promised little for an invalids luxurious comfort. They were ushered into a chilly sitting-room and Miss Boutelle ran upstairs with Jimmy to prepare the invalid for Bobs appearance. He noticed that a word dropped by the woman who opened the door made the young girls face grave again, and paled the color that the storm had buffeted to her cheek. He noticed also that these plain surroundings seemed only to enhance her own superiority, and that the woman treated her with a deference in odd contrast to the ill-concealed disfavor with which she regarded him. Strangely enough, this latter fact was a relief to his conscience. It would have been terrible to have received their kindness under false pretenses; to take their just blame of the man he personated seemed to mitigate the deceit.
The young girl rejoined him presently with troubled eyes. Cissy was worse, and only intermittently conscious, but had asked to see him. It was a short flight of stairs to the bedroom, but before he reached it Bobs heart beat faster than it had in any mountain climb. In one corner of the plainly furnished room stood a small truckle bed, and in it lay the invalid. It needed but a single glance at her flushed face in its aureole of yellow hair to recognize the likeness to Jimmy, although, added to that strange refinement produced by suffering, there was a spiritual exaltation in the childs lookpossibly from deliriumthat awed and frightened him; an awful feeling that he could not lie to this hopeless creature took possession of him, and his step faltered. But she lifted her small arms pathetically towards him as if she divined his trouble, and he sank on his knees beside her. With a tiny finger curled around his long mustache, she lay there silent. Her face was full of trustfulness, happiness, and consciousnessbut she spoke no word.
There was a pause, and Falloner, slightly lifting his head without disturbing that faintly clasping finger, beckoned Miss Boutelle to his side. Can you drive? he said, in a low voice.
Yes.
Take my sleigh and get the best doctor in town to come here at once. Bring him with you if you can; if he cant come at once, drive home yourself. I will stay here.
Buthesitated Miss Boutelle.
I will stay here, he repeated.
The door closed on the young girl, and Falloner, still bending over the child, presently heard the sleigh-bells pass away in the storm. He still sat with his bent head, held by the tiny clasp of those thin fingers. But the childs eyes were fixed so intently upon him that Mrs. Ricketts leaned over the strangely-assorted pair and said
Its your brother Dick, dearie. Dont you know him?
The childs lips moved faintly. Dicks dead, she whispered.
Shes wandering, said Mrs. Ricketts. Speak to her. But Bob, with his eyes on the childs, lifted a protesting hand. The little sufferers lips moved again. It isnt Dickits the angel God sent to tell me.
She spoke no more. And when Miss Boutelle returned with the doctor she was beyond the reach of finite voices. Falloner would have remained all night with them, but he could see that his presence in the contracted household was not desired. Even his offer to take Jimmy with him to the hotel was declined, and at midnight he returned alone.
What his thoughts were that night may be easily imagined. Cissys death had removed the only cause he had for concealing his real identity. There was nothing more to prevent his revealing all to Miss Boutelle and to offer to adopt the boy. But he reflected this could not be done until after the funeral, for it was only due to Cissys memory that he should still keep up the role of Dick Lasham as chief mourner. If it seems strange that Bob did not at this crucial moment take Miss Boutelle into his confidence, I fear it was because he dreaded the personal effect of the deceit he had practiced upon her more than any ethical consideration; she had softened considerably in her attitude towards him that night; he was human, after all, and while he felt his conduct had been unselfish in the main, he dared not confess to himself how much her opinion had influenced him. He resolved that after the funeral he would continue his journey, and write to her, en route, a full explanation of his conduct, inclosing Daddys letter as corroborative evidence. But on searching his letter-case he found that he had lost even that evidence, and he must trust solely at present to her faith in his improbable story.
It seemed as if his greatest sacrifice was demanded at the funeral! For it could not be disguised that the neighbors were strongly prejudiced against him. Even the preacher improved the occasion to warn the congregation against the dangers of putting off duty until too late. And when Robert Falloner, pale, but self-restrained, left the church with Miss Boutelle, equally pale and reserved, on his arm, he could with difficulty restrain his fury at the passing of a significant smile across the faces of a few curious bystanders. It was Amy Boutelle, that was the penitence that fetched him, you bet! he overheard, a barely concealed whisper; and the reply, And its a good thing shes made out of it too, for hes mighty rich!
At the church door he took her cold hand into his. I am leaving to-morrow morning with Jimmy, he said, with a white face. Good-by.
You are quite right; good-by, she replied as briefly, but with the faintest color. He wondered if she had heard it too.
Whether she had heard it or not, she went home with Mrs. Ricketts in some righteous indignation, which foundafter the young ladys habitfree expression. Whatever were Mr. Lashams faults of omission it was most un-Christian to allude to them there, and an insult to the poor little dears memory who had forgiven them. Were she in his shoes she would shake the dust of the town off her feet; and she hoped he would. She was a little softened on arriving to find Jimmy in tears. He had lost Dicks photographor Dick had forgotten to give it back at the hotel, for this was all he had in his pocket. And he produced a letterthe missing letter of Daddy, which by mistake Falloner had handed back instead of the photograph. Miss Boutelle saw the superscription and Californian postmark with a vague curiosity.
Did you look inside, dear? Perhaps it slipped in.
Jimmy had not. Miss Boutelle didand I grieve to say, ended by reading the whole letter.
Bob Falloner had finished packing his things the next morning, and was waiting for Mr. Ricketts and Jimmy. But when a tap came at the door, he opened it to find Miss Boutelle standing there. I have sent Jimmy into the bedroom, she said with a faint smile, to look for the photograph which you gave him in mistake for this. I think for the present he prefers his brothers picture to this letter, which I have not explained to him or any one. She stopped, and raising her eyes to his, said gently: I think it would have only been a part of your goodness to have trusted me, Mr. Falloner.
Then you will forgive me? he said eagerly.
She looked at him frankly, yet with a faint trace of coquetry that the angels might have pardoned. Do you want me to say to you what Mrs. Ricketts says were the last words of poor Cissy?
A year later, when the darkness and rain were creeping up Sawyers Ledge, and Houston and Daddy Folsom were sitting before their brushwood fire in the old Lasham cabin, the latter delivered himself oracularly.
Its a mighty queer thing, that news about Bob! Its not that hes married, for that might happen to any one; but this yer account in the paper of his wedding being attended by his little brother. That gets me! To think all the while he was here he was lettin on to us that he hadnt kith or kin! Well, sir, that accounts to me for one thing,the singler way he tumbled to that letter of poor Dick Lashams little brother and sent him that draft! Dont ye see? It was a feller feelin! Knew how it was himself! I reckon ye all thought I was kinder soft reading that letter o Dick Lashams little brother to him, but ye see what it did.
THE YOUNGEST MISS PIPER
I do not think that any of us who enjoyed the acquaintance of the Piper girls or the hospitality of Judge Piper, their father, ever cared for the youngest sister. Not on account of her extreme youth, for the eldest Miss Piper confessed to twenty-sixand the youth of the youngest sister was established solely, I think, by one big braid down her back. Neither was it because she was the plainest, for the beauty of the Piper girls was a recognized general distinction, and the youngest Miss Piper was not entirely devoid of the family charms. Nor was it from any lack of intelligence, nor from any defective social quality; for her precocity was astounding, and her good-humored frankness alarming. Neither do I think it could be said that a slight deafness, which might impart an embarrassing publicity to any statementthe reverse of our general feelingthat might be confided by any one to her private ear, was a sufficient reason; for it was pointed out that she always understood everything that Tom Sparrell told her in his ordinary tone of voice. Briefly, it was very possible that Delawarethe youngest Miss Piperdid not like us. Yet it was fondly believed by us that the other sisters failed to show that indifference to our existence shown by Miss Delaware, although the heartburnings, misunderstandings, jealousies, hopes and fears, and finally the chivalrous resignation with which we at last accepted the long foregone conclusion that they were not for us, and far beyond our reach, is not a part of this veracious chronicle. Enough that none of the flirtations of her elder sisters affected or were shared by the youngest Miss Piper. She moved in this heart-breaking atmosphere with sublime indifference, treating her sisters affairs with what we considered rank simplicity or appalling frankness. Their few admirers who were weak enough to attempt to gain her mediation or confidence had reason to regret it.
Its no kind o use givin me goodies, she said to a helpless suitor of Louisiana Pipers who had offered to bring her some sweets, for I aint got no influence with Lu, and if I dont give em up to her when she hears of it, shell nag me and hate you like pizen. Unless, she added thoughtfully, it was wintergreen lozenges; Lu cant stand them, or anybody who eats them within a mile. It is needless to add that the miserable man, thus put upon his gallantry, was obliged in honor to provide Del with the wintergreen lozenges that kept him in disfavor and at a distance. Unfortunately, too, any predilection or pity for any particular suitor of her sisters was attended by even more disastrous consequences. It was reported that while acting as gooseberrya role usually assigned to herbetween Virginia Piper and an exceptionally timid young surveyor, during a ramble she conceived a rare sentiment of humanity towards the unhappy man. After once or twice lingering behind in the ostentatious picking of a wayside flower, or running on ahead to look at a mountain view, without any apparent effect on the shy and speechless youth, she decoyed him aside while her elder sister rambled indifferently and somewhat scornfully on. The youngest Miss Piper leaped upon the rail of a fence, and with the stalk of a thimbleberry in her mouth swung her small feet to and fro and surveyed him dispassionately.
Ye dont seem to be ketchin on? she said tentatively.
The young man smiled feebly and interrogatively.
Dont seem to be either follering suit nor trumpin, continued Del bluntly.
I suppose sothat is, I fear that Miss Virginiahe stammered.
Speak up! Im a little deaf. Say it again! said Del, screwing up her eyes and eyebrows.
The young man was obliged to admit in stentorian tones that his progress had been scarcely satisfactory.
Youre goin on too slowthats it, said Del critically. Why, when Captain Savage meandered along here with Jinny (Virginia) last week, afore we got as far as this hed reeled off a heap of Byron and Jamieson (Tennyson), and sich; and only yesterday Jinny and Doctor Beveridge was blowin thistletops to know which was a flirt all along the trail past the crossroads. Why, ye aint picked ez much as a single berry for Jinny, let alone Lads Love or Johnny Jumpups and Kissmes, and ye keep talkin across me, you two, till Im tired. Now look here, she burst out with sudden decision, Jinnys gone on ahead in a kind o huff; but I reckon shes done that afore too, and youll find her, jest as Spinner did, on the rise of the hill, sittin on a pine stump and lookin like this. (Here the youngest Miss Piper locked her fingers over her left knee, and drew it slightly up,with a sublime indifference to the exposure of considerable small-ankled red stocking,and with a far-off, plaintive stare, achieved a colorable imitation of her elder sisters probable attitude.) Then you jest go up softly, like as you was a bear, and clap your hands on her eyes, and say in a disguised voice like this (here Del turned on a high falsetto beyond any masculine compass), Whos who? jest like in forfeits.
But shell be sure to know me, said the surveyor timidly.
She wont, said Del in scornful skepticism.
I hardly thinkstammered the young man, with an awkward smile, that Iin factshell discover mebefore I can get beside her.
Not if you go softly, for shell be sittin back to the road, sogazing away, sothe youngest Miss Piper again stared dreamily in the distance, and youll creep up just behind, like this.
But wont she be angry? I havent known her longthat isdont you see? He stopped embarrassedly.
Cant hear a word you say, said Del, shaking her head decisively. Youve got my deaf ear. Speak louder, or come closer.