The Last of the Foresters Part 16

And he made friendly signs of invitation to the hound. Longears availed himself of these indications of friends.h.i.+p by rearing up on Mr. Jinks, and leaving a dust-impression of his two paws upon that gentleman's ruffled s.h.i.+rt-bosom.

Verty laughed, and dragged him away.

"Longears," he said, "I'm surprised at you--and here, too, where you should conduct yourself better than usual!"

Miss Sallianna was about to say something, when a bell was heard to ring.

"Oh!" said Redbud, "there's school. Playtime's over."

"Over?" said Verty, with an exhibition of decided ill-humor.

"Yes, sir," said Miss Sallianna, "and my young pupil must now return to her studies. Mr. Jinks--"

And the lady threw a languis.h.i.+ng glance on her cavalier.

"You will come soon again, and continue our discussion--of--of--the beauties of nature? We are very lonely here."

"Will I come?" cried the enthusiastic Jinks; and having thus displayed, by the tone in which his words were uttered, the depth of his devotion, the gra.s.shopper gentleman gallantly pressed the hand held out to him, and, with a lofty look, made his exit out of the garden.

Verty followed. But first he said to Redbud, smiling:

"I'm going to see Miss Lavinia this very day, to ask her to let me come to see you. You know I must come to see you, Redbud. I don't know why, but I must."

Redbud blushed, and continued to caress Longears, who submitted to this ceremony with great equanimity.

"Come!" said Miss Sallianna, "let us return, Miss Summers."

"Yes, ma'am," said Redbud; "good-bye, Verty," she added, looking at the boy with her kind, smiling eyes, and lowering her voice, "remember what you promised me--to read your Bible."

And smiling again, Redbud gave him her hand, and then followed Miss Sallianna, who sailed on before--her head resting languidly on one shoulder--her fan arranged primly upon her maiden chin--her eyes raised in contemplation to the sky.

Poor Verty smiled and sighed, and followed Redbud with his eyes, and saw her disappear--the kind, tender eyes fixed on him to the last. He sighed again, as she pa.s.sed from his sight; and so left the garden.

Mr. Jinks was swaggering amiably toward town--Cloud was standing, like a statue, where his master had left him. Verty, leaning one arm on the saddle, murmured:

"Really, Redbud is getting prettier than ever, and I wonder if I am what Mr. Roundjacket calls 'in love' with her?"

Finding himself unable to answer this question, Verty shook his head wisely, got into the saddle, and set forward toward the town, Longears following duly in his wake.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE THIRTEENTH OF OCTOBER.

Just as the boy left the surburban residence of Miss Redbud, Mr.

Roundjacket, who had been writing at his old dusty desk for an hour, raised his head, hearing a knock at the door.

He thrust the pen he had been using behind his ear, and bade the intruder "come in!"

One of the clients of Mr. Rushton made his appearance, and inquired for that gentleman. Mr. Roundjacket said that Mr. Rushton was "within," and rose to go and summon him, the visitor meanwhile having seated himself.

Mr. Roundjacket tapped at the door of Mr. Rushton's sanctum, but received no answer. He tapped louder--no reply. Somewhat irate at this, he kicked the door, and at the same moment opened it, preparing himself for the encounter.

An unusual sight awaited him.

Seated at his old circular table, covered with papers and books, Mr.

Rushton seemed perfectly ignorant of his presence, as he had not heard the noise of the kick. His head resting upon his hand, the forehead drooping, the eyes half closed, the bosom shaken by piteous sighs, and the whole person full of languor and grief, no one would have recognized the rough, bearish Lawyer Rushton, or believed that there could be anything in common between him and the individual sitting at the table, so bowed down with sorrow.

Before him lay a little book, which he looked at through a mist of tears.

Roundjacket touched him on the shoulder, with a glance of wonder, and said:--

"You are sick, sir!--Mr. Rushton, sir!--there is somebody to see you."

In truth, the honest fellow could scarcely stammer out these broken words; and when Mr. Rushton, slowly returning to a consciousness of his whereabouts, raised his sorrowful eyes, Roundjacket looked at him with profound commiseration and sympathy.

"You have forgotten," said Mr. Rushton, in a low, broken voice, his pale lips trembling as he spoke,--"you don't keep account of the days as I do, Roundjacket."

"The days--I--"

"Yes, yes; it is natural for you to wonder at all this," said the weary looking man, closing the book, and locking it up in a secret drawer of the table; "let us dismiss the matter. Did you say any one wanted me? Yes, I can attend to business--my mind is quite clear--I am ready--I will see them now, Roundjacket."

And the head of the lawyer fell upon his arm, his bosom shaken with sobs.

Roundjacket looked at him no longer with so much surprise--he had understood all.

"Yes, yes, sir--I had forgotten," he muttered, "this is the 13th of October."

Mr. Rushton groaned.

Roundjacket was silent for a moment, looking at his friend with deep sympathy.

"I don't wonder now at your feelings, sir," he said, "and I am sorry I intruded on--"

"No, no--you are a good friend," murmured the lawyer, growing calmer, "you will understand my feelings, and not think them strange. I am nearly over it now; it must come--oh! I am very wretched! Oh! Anne! my child, my child!"

And allowing his head to fall again, the rough, boorish man cried like a child, spite of the most violent efforts to regain his composure and master his emotion.

"Go," he said, in a low, broken voice, making a movement with his hand, "I was wrong--I cannot see any one to-day--I must be alone."

Roundjacket hesitated; moved dubiously from, then toward the lawyer; finally he seemed to have made up his mind, and going out he closed the door slowly behind him. As he did so, the key turned in the lock, and a stifled moan died away in the inner chamber.

"Mr. Rushton is unwell, and can't transact business to-day," said Roundjacket, softly, for he was thinking of the poor afflicted heart "within;" then he added, "you may call to-morrow, sir,"

The visitor went away, wondering at "Judge Rushton" being sick; such a thing had never before occurred in the recollection of the "oldest inhabitant." Just as he had disappeared, the door re-opened, and Verty made his appearance.

"I'm very sorry, Mr. Roundjacket," said the boy, "for having run off so this morning, but you see I was after that pigeon. I'll stay till night, though, and work harder, and then it will be right again."