The Late Mrs. Null Part 28

"Oh," said Junius, turning suddenly at the door, "I forgot that you asked me to observe her mood. Well, she was very angry."

"With me?" cried Lawrence.

"With me," said Junius. And closing the door behind him, he strode away.

The accepted lover sat down. He had never spoken more truly than when he said he did not understand it. "Is she really mine?" he exclaimed.

And with his eyes fixed on the blank wall over the mantel-piece, he repeated over and over again: "Is she mine? Is she really mine?" He had well developed mental powers, but the work of setting this matter straight and plain was too difficult for him.

If she had sent him some such message as this: "I am very angry with you, but some day you can come and explain yourself to me;" his heart would have leaped for joy. He would have believed that his peace had been made, and that he had only to go to her to call her his own. Now his heart desired to leap with joy, but it did not seem to know how to do it. The situation was such an anomalous one. After such a message as this, why had she not let him see her? Why had she been angry with Keswick? Was that pique? And then a dark thought crossed his mind. Had he been accepted to punish the other? No, he could not believe that; no woman such as Roberta March would give herself away from such a motive. Had Keswick been joking with him? No, he could not believe that; no man could joke with such a face.

Even the fact that Mrs Keswick had not bid Miss March farewell, troubled the mind of Lawrence. It was true that she might not yet know that the match, which she had so much encouraged, had been finally made, but something must be very wrong, or she would not have been absent at the moment of her guest's departure. And what did that beastly little negro mean by telling him that Keswick and Miss March were to be married at Christmas, and that the two were kissing each other good-bye in the parlor? Why, the man had not even come out to put her in the carriage, and the omission of this courtesy was very remarkable. These questions were entirely too difficult for him to resolve by himself. It was absolutely necessary that more should be told to him, and explained to him. Seeing the negro boy Plez crossing the yard, he called him and asked him to tell Mr Keswick that Mr Croft wished to see him immediately.

"Mahs' Junius," said the boy, "he done gone to de railroad to take de kyars. He done took he knapsack on he back, an' walk 'cross de fiel's."

When, about an hour or two afterwards, Uncle Isham brought Mr Croft his dinner, the old negro appeared to have lost that air of attentive geniality which he usually put on while waiting on the gentleman.

Lawrence, however, took no notice of this, but before the man reached the table, on which he was to place the tray he carried, he asked: "Is it true that Mr Keswick has gone away by train?"

"Yaas, sah," answered Isham.

"And where is Mrs Keswick?" asked Lawrence. "Isn't she in the house?"

"No, sah, done gwine vis'tin, I 'spec."

"When will she return?"

"Dunno," said Isham. "She nebber comes to me an' tells me whar she gwine, an' when she comin' back."

And then, after satisfying himself that nothing more was needed of him for the present, Isham left the room; and when he reached the kitchen, he addressed himself to its plump mistress: "Letty," said he, "when dat ar Mister Crof has got froo wid his dinner, you go an' fotch back de plates an' dishes. He axes too many questions to suit me, dis day."

"You is poh'ly to-day, Uncle Isham," said Letty.

"Yaas," said the old man, "I's right much on the careen."

Uncle Isham, perhaps, was not more loyal to the widow Keswick than many old servants were and are to their former mistresses, but his loyalty was peculiar in that it related princ.i.p.ally to his regard for her character. This regard he wished to be very high, and it always troubled and unsettled his mind, when the old lady herself or anybody else interfered with his efforts to keep it high. For years he had been hoping that the time would come when she would cease to "rar and chawge," but she had continued, at intervals, to indulge in that most unsuitable exercise; and now that it appeared that she had reared and charged again, her old servant was much depressed. She had gone away from the house, and, for all he knew, she might stay away for days or weeks, as she had done before, and Uncle Isham was never so much "on the careen" as when he found himself forced to believe that his old mistress was still a woman who could do a thing like that.

Letty had no objections to answering questions, but much to her disappointment, Lawrence asked her none. He had had enough of catechising negroes. But he requested her to ask Mrs Null if she would be kind enough to step out, for a few minutes, and speak to him. When, very shortly thereafter, that lady appeared, Lawrence was seated at his open door ready to receive her.

"How are you?" she said. "And how is your ankle to-day? You have had n.o.body to attend to it."

"It has hurt me a good deal," he answered. "I think I must have given it a wrench this morning, but I put on it some of the lotion Mrs Keswick left with me, and it feels better."

"It is too bad," said Mrs Null, "that you have to attend to it yourself."

"Not at all," said Lawrence. "Now that I know how, I can do it, perfectly well, and I don't care a snap about my ankle, except that it interferes with more important affairs. Why do you suppose Miss March went away without speaking to me, or taking leave of me in any way?"

"I thought that would trouble you," said she, "and, to speak honestly, I don't think it was right. But Roberta was in a very agitated condition, when she left here, and I don't believe she ever thought of taking leave of you, or any one, except me. She and I are very good friends, but she don't confide much in me. But one thing I am pretty sure of, and that is that she is dreadfully angry with my cousin Junius, and I am very sorry for that."

"How did he anger her?" asked Lawrence, wis.h.i.+ng to find out how much this young woman knew. "I haven't the least idea," said Miss Annie.

"All I know is, she had quite a long talk with him, in the parlor, and after that she came flying up-stairs, just as indignant as she could be. She didn't say much, but I could see how her soul raged within her." And now the young lady stopped speaking, and looked straight into Lawrence's face. "It isn't possible," she said, "that you have been sending my cousin to propose to her for you?"

This was not a pleasant question to answer, and, besides, Lawrence had made up his mind that the period had pa.s.sed for making confidants of other persons, in regard to his love affairs. "Do you suppose I would do that?" he said.

"No, I don't," Miss Annie answered. "Cousin Junius would never have undertaken such a thing, and I don't believe you would be cruel enough to ask him."

"Thank you for your good opinion," said Lawrence. "And now can you tell me when Mr Keswick is expected to return?"

"He has gone back to Was.h.i.+ngton, and he told me he should stay there some time."

"And why has not Mrs Keswick been out to see me?" asked Lawrence.

"You are dreadfully inquisitive," said Miss Annie, "but to tell you the simple truth, Mr Croft, I don't believe Aunt Keswick takes any further interest in you, now that Roberta has gone. She had set her heart on making a match between you two, and doing it here without delay; and I think that everything going wrong about this has put her into the state of mind she is in now."

"Has she really gone away?" asked Lawrence.

"Oh, that don't amount to anything," said Miss Annie. "She went over the fields to Howlett's, to see the postmistress, who is an old friend, to whom she often goes for comfort, when things are not right at home. But I am going after her this afternoon in the spring wagon.

I'll take Plez along with me to open the gates. I am sure I shall bring her back."

"I must admit, Mrs Null," said Lawrence, "that I am very inquisitive, but you can easily understand how much I am troubled and perplexed."

"I expect Miss March's going away troubled you more than anything else," said she.

"That is true," he answered, "but then there are other things which give me a great deal of anxiety. I came here to be, for a day or two, the guest of a lady on whom I have no manner of claim for prolonged hospitality. And now here I am, compelled to stay in this room and depend on her kindness or forbearance for everything I have. I would go away, immediately, but I know it would injure me to travel. The few steps I took yesterday have probably set me back for several days."

"Oh, it would never do for you to travel," said she, "with such a sprained ankle as you have. It would certainly injure you very much to be driven all the way to the Green Sulphur Springs. I am told the road is very rough, between here and there, but perhaps you didn't notice it, having come over on horseback."

"Yes, I did notice it, and I could not stand that drive. And, even if I could be got to the train, to go North, I should have to walk a good deal at the stations."

"You simply must not think of it," said Miss Annie. "And now let me give you a piece of advice. I am a practical person, as you may know, and I like to do things in a practical way. The very best thing that you can do, is to arrange with Aunt Keswick to stay here as a boarder, until your ankle is well. She has taken boarders, and in this case I don't think she would refuse. As I told you before, you must not expect her to take the same interest in you, that she did when you first came, but she is really a kind woman, though she has such dreadfully funny ways, and she wouldn't have neglected you to-day, if it hadn't been that her mind is entirely wrapped up in other things.

If you like, I'll propose such an arrangement to her, this afternoon."

"You are very kind, indeed," said Lawrence, "but is there not danger of offending her by such a proposition?"

"Yes, I think there is," answered Miss Annie, "and I have no doubt she will fly out into a pa.s.sion when she hears that the gentleman, whom she invited here as a guest, proposes to stay as a boarder, but I think I can pacify her, and make her look at the matter in the proper way." "But why mention it at all, and put yourself to all that trouble about it?" said Lawrence.

"Why, of course, because I think you will be so much better satisfied, and content to keep quiet and get well, if you feel that you have a right to stay here. If Aunt Keswick wasn't so very different from other people, I wouldn't have mentioned this matter for, really, there is no necessity for it; but I know very well that if you were to drop out of her mind for two or three days, and shouldn't see anything of her, that you would become dreadfully nervous about staying here."

"You are certainly very practical, Mrs Null, and very sensible, and very, very kind; and nothing could suit me better under the circ.u.mstances than the plan you propose. But I am extremely anxious not to give offence to your aunt. She has treated me with the utmost kindness and hospitality."

"Oh, don't trouble yourself about that," said Miss Annie, with a little laugh. "I am getting to know her so well that I think I can manage an affair like this, very easily. And now I must be off, or it will be too late for me to go to Howlett's, this afternoon, and I am a very slow driver. Are you sure there is nothing you want? I shall go directly past the store, and can stop as well as not."

"Thank you very much," said Lawrence, "but I do not believe that Howlett's possesses an article that I need. One thing I will ask you to do for me before you go. I want to write a letter, and I find that I am out of paper; therefore I shall be very much obliged to you, if you will let me have some, and some envelopes."

"Why, certainly," said Miss Annie, and she went into the house.

She looked over the stock of paper which her aunt kept in a desk in the dining-room, but she did not like it. "I don't believe he will want to write on such ordinary paper as this," she said to herself.

Whereupon she went up-stairs and got some of her own paper and envelopes, which were much finer in material and more correct in style. "I don't like it a bit," she thought, "to give this to him to write that letter on, but I suppose it's bound to be written, anyway, so he might as well have the satisfaction of good paper."

"You must excuse these little sheets," she said, when she took it to him, "but you couldn't expect anything else, in an Amazonian household like ours. Cousin Junius has manly stationery, of course, but I suppose it is all locked up in that secretary in your room."