The Late Mrs. Null Part 30

If Mr Croft had become convinced that he ought to retire from this contest, and had done so, and Roberta had been informed of it, that would explain everything that had happened. Roberta's state of mind, after she had had the talk in the parlor with Junius, and her hurried departure, without taking the slightest notice of either of the gentlemen, was quite natural. What woman would like to know that she had been bargained about, and that her two lovers had agreed which of them should have her? It was quite to be expected that she would be very angry, at first, though there was no doubt she would get over it, so far as Junius was concerned.

Having thus decided, entirely to her own satisfaction, that this was the state of affairs, she thought it was a grand thing that there were two such young men in the world, as her cousin and Mr Croft, who could arrange such an affair in so kindly and honorable a manner, without feeling that they were obliged to fight--that horribly stupid way in which such things used to be settled.

This vision of masculine high-mindedness, which Miss Annie had called up, seemed very pleasant to her, and her mental satisfaction was denoted by a pretty little glow which came into her face, and by a certain increase of sprightliness in her walk. "Now then,--" she said to herself; and although she did not finish the sentence, even in her own mind, the sky increased the intensity of its beautiful blue; the sun began to s.h.i.+ne with a more golden radiance; the little birds who had not yet gone South, chirped to each other as merrily as if it had been early summer; the yellow and purple wild flowers of autumn threw into their blossoms a richer coloring; and even the blades of gra.s.s seemed to stretch themselves upward, green, tender, and promising; and when the young lady skipped up the step of the post-office, she dropped the letter into Miss Harriet Corvey's little box, with the air of a mother-bird feeding a young one with the first ripe cherry of the year.

A day or two after this, Lawrence found himself able, by the aid of a cane and a rude crutch, which Uncle Isham had made for him and the top of which Mrs Keswick had carefully padded, to make his way from the office to the house; and, after that, he took his meals, and pa.s.sed the greater part of his time in the larger edifice. Sometimes, he ransacked the old library; sometimes, Miss Annie read to him; and sometimes, he read to her. In the evening, there were games of cards, in which the old lady would occasionally take a hand, although more frequently Miss Annie and Mr Croft were obliged to content themselves with some game at which two could play. But the pleasantest hours, perhaps, were those which were spent in talking, for Lawrence had travelled a good deal, and had seen so many of the things in foreign lands which Miss Annie had always wished, that she could see. Lawrence was waiting until he should hear from Mr Keswick; so that, with some confidence in his position, he could write to Miss March. His trunk had been sent over from the Green Sulphur Springs, and he was much better satisfied to wait here than at that deserted watering-place. It was, indeed, a very agreeable spot in which to wait, and quite near enough to Midbranch for him to carry on his desired operations, when the time should arrive. He was a little annoyed that Keswick's answer should be so long in coming, but he resolved not to worry himself about it. The answer was, probably, a difficult letter to write, and one which Keswick would not be likely to dash off in a hurry. He remembered, too, that the mail was sent and received only twice a week at Howlett's.

Old Mrs Keswick was kind to him, but grave, and rather silent. Once she pa.s.sed the open door of the parlor, by the window of which sat Miss Annie and Lawrence, deeply engaged, their heads together, in studying out something on a map, and as she went up-stairs she grimly grinned, and said to herself: "If that Null could look in and see them now, I reckon our young man would wish he had the use of all his arms and legs."

But if Mr Null should disapprove of his wife and that gentleman from New York spending so much of their time together, old Mrs Keswick had not the least objection in the world. She was well satisfied that Mr Croft should find it interesting enough to stay here until the time came when he should be able to go to Midbranch. When that period arrived she would not be slow to urge him to his duty, in spite of any obstacles Mr Brandon might put in his way. So, for the present, she possessed her soul in as much peace as the soul of a headstrong and very wilful old lady is capable of being possessed.

CHAPTER XXIV.

The letter which Lawrence Croft had written to Junius Keswick was not answered for more than a week, and when the answer arrived, it did not come through the Howlett's post-office, but was brought from a mail station on the railway by a special messenger. In this epistle Mr Keswick stated that he would have written much sooner but for the fact that he had been away from Was.h.i.+ngton, and having just returned, had found Mr Croft's letter waiting for him. The answer was written in a tone which Lawrence did not at all expect. It breathed the spirit of a man who was determined, and almost defiant. It told Mr Croft that the writer did not now believe that Miss March's acceptance of the said Mr Croft, should be considered of any value, whatever. It was the result of a very peculiar condition of things, in which he regretted having taken a part, and it was given in a moment of pique and indignation, which gave Miss March a right to reconsider her hasty decision, if she chose to do so. It would not be fair for either of them to accept, as conclusive, words said under the extraordinary circ.u.mstances which surrounded Miss March when she said those words. "You asked me to do you a favor," wrote Junius Keswick, "and, very much against my inclination, and against what is now my judgment, I did it. I now ask you to do me a favor, and I do not think you should refuse it. I ask you not to communicate with Miss March until I have seen her, and have obtained from her an explanation of the acceptance in question. I have a right to this explanation, and I feel confident that it will be given to me. You ask me what I truly believe Miss March meant by her message to you. I answer that I do not know, but I intend to find out what she meant, and as soon as I do so, I will write to you. I think, therefore, considering what you have asked me to do, and what you have written to me, about what I have done, that you cannot refuse to abstain from any further action in the matter, until I am enabled to answer you. I cannot leave Was.h.i.+ngton immediately, but I shall go to Midbranch in a very few days."

This letter was very far from being a categorical answer to Lawrence's questions, and it disappointed and somewhat annoyed that gentleman; but after he had read it for the second time, and carefully considered it, he put it in his pocket and said to himself, "This ends all discussion of this subject. Mr Keswick may be right in the position he takes, or he may be wrong. He may go to Midbranch; he may get his explanation; and he may send it to me. But, without any regard to what he does, or says, or writes, I shall go to Miss March as soon as I am able to use my ankle, and, whether she be at her uncle's house, or whether she has gone to New York, or to any other place, I shall see her, and, myself, obtain from her an explanation of this acceptance.

This is due to me as well as to Mr Keswick, and if he thinks he ought to get it, for himself, I also think I ought to get it, for myself."

The good results of Lawrence's great care in regard to his injured ankle soon began to show themselves. The joint had slowly but steadily regained its strength and usual healthy condition; and Lawrence now found that he could walk about without the a.s.sistance of his rude crutch. He was still prudent, however, and took but very short walks, and in these he leaned upon his trusty cane. The charming autumn days, which often come to Virginia in late October and early November, were now at their best. Day after day, the sun shone brightly, but there was in the air an invigorating coolness, which made its radiance something to be sought for and not avoided.

It was just after dinner, and it was Sat.u.r.day afternoon, when Miss Annie announced that she was going to see old Aunt Patsy, whom she had somewhat neglected of late.

"May I go with you?" said Lawrence.

Miss Annie shook her head doubtfully. "I should be very glad to have your company," she said, "but I am afraid it will be entirely too much of a walk for you. The days are so short that the sun will be low before we could get back, and if you should be tired, it would not do for you to sit down and rest, at that time of day."

"I believe," said Lawrence, "that my ankle is quite strong enough for me to walk to Aunt Patsy's and back, without sitting down to rest. I would be very glad to go with you, and I would like, too, to see that venerable colored woman again."

"Well," said Miss Annie, "if you really think you can walk so far, it will be very nice indeed to have you go, but you ought to feel very sure that it will not hurt you."

"Come along," said Lawrence, taking up his hat and cane.

After a man has been shut up, as Lawrence had been, a pleasant ramble like this is a most delightful change, and he did not hesitate to manifest his pleasure. This touched the very sensitive soul of his companion, and with such a sparkle of talk did she evince her gratification, that almost any one would have been able to see that she was a young lady who had an earnest sympathy with those who had undergone afflictions, but were now freed from them.

Aunt Patsy was glad to see her visitors, particularly glad, it seemed, to see Mr Croft. She was quite loquacious, considering the great length of her days, and the proverbial shortness of her tongue.

"Why, Aunt Patsy," said Miss Annie, "you seem to have grown younger since I last saw you! I do believe you are getting old backwards! What are you going to do with that dress-body?" "I's lookin' at dis h'yar,"

said Aunt Patsy, turning over the well-worn body of a black woollen dress which lay in her lap, instead of the crazy quilt on which she was usually occupied, "to see if it's done gib way in any ob de seams, or de elbers. 'Twas a right smart good frock once, an' I's gwine to wear it ter-morrer."

"To-morrow!" exclaimed Annie. "You don't mean to say you are going to church!"

"Dat's jus' wot I's gwine to do, Miss Annie. I's gwine to chu'ch ter-morrer mawnin'. Dar's gwine to be a big preachin'. Brudder Enick Hines is to be dar, an' dey tell me dey allus has pow'ful wakenin's when Brudder Enick preaches. I ain't ever heered Brudder Enick yit, coz he was a little boy when I use to go to chu'ch."

"Will it be in the old church, in the woods just beyond Howlett's?"

asked Annie.

"Right dar," replied Aunt Patsy, with an approving glance towards the young lady. "You 'members dem ar places fus' rate, Miss Annie. Why you didn't tole me, when you fus' come h'yar, dat you was dat little Miss Annie dat I use to tote roun' afore I gin up walkin'?"

"Oh, that's too long a story," said Miss Annie, with a laugh. "You know I hadn't seen Aunt Keswick, then. I couldn't go about introducing myself to other people before I had seen her."

Aunt Patsy gave a sagacious nod of her head. "I reckon you thought she'd be right much disgruntled when she heered you was mar'ed, an'

you wanted to tell her youse'f. But I's pow'ful glad dat it's all right now. You all don' know how pow'ful glad I is." And she looked at Mr Croft and Miss Annie with a glance as benignant as her time-set countenance was capable of.

"But Aunt Patsy," said Annie, quite willing to change the conversation, although she did not know the import of the old woman's last remark, "I thought you were not able to go out."

The old woman gave a little chuckle. "Dat's wot eberybody thought, an'

to tell you de truf, Miss Annie, I thought so too. But ef I was strong 'nuf to go to de pos' offis,--an' I did dat, Miss Annie, an' not long ago nuther,--I reckon I's strong 'nuf to go to chu'ch, an' Uncle Isham is a comin' wid de oxcart to take me ter-morrer mawnin'. Dar'll be pow'ful wakenin's, an' I ain't seen de Jerus'lum Jump in a mighty long time."

"Are they going to have the Jerusalem Jump?" asked Miss Annie.

"Oh, yaas, Miss Annie," said the old woman, "dey's sartin shuh to hab dat, when dey gits waken'd."

"I should so like to see the Jerusalem Jump again," said Miss Annie.

"I saw it once, when I was a little girl. Did you ever see it?" she said, turning to Mr Croft.

"I have not," he answered. "I never even heard of it."

"Suppose we go to-morrow, and hear Brother Enoch," she said. "I should like it very much," answered Lawrence.

"Aunt Patsy," said Miss Annie, "would there be any objection to our going to your church to-morrow?"

The old woman gave her head a little shake. "Dunno," she said. "As a gin'ral rule we don't like white folks at our preachin's. Dey's got dar chu'ches, an' dar ways, an' we's got our chu'ches, an' our ways.

But den it's dif'rent wid you all. An' you all's not like white folks in gin'ral, an' 'specially strawngers. You all isn't strawngers now. I don't reckon dar'll be no 'jections to your comin', ef you set sollum, an' I know you'll do dat, Miss Annie, coz you did it when you was a little gal. An' I reckon it'll be de same wid him?" looking at Mr Croft.

Miss Annie a.s.sured her that she and her companion would be certain to "sit solemn," and that they would not think of such a thing as going to church and behaving indecorously.

"Dar is white folks," said Aunt Patsy, "wot comes to a culled chu'ch fur nothin' else but to larf. De debbil gits dem folks, but dat don'

do us no good, Miss Annie, an' we'd rudder dey stay away. But you all's not dat kine. I knows dat, sartin shuh."

When the two had taken leave of the old woman, and Miss Annie had gone out of the door, Aunt Patsy leaned very far forward, and stretching out her long arm, seized Mr Croft by the skirt of his coat. He stepped back, quite surprised, and then she said to him, in a low but very earnest voice: "I reckon dat dat ar sprain ankle was nuffin but a acciden'; but you look out, sah, you look out! Hab you got dem little shoes handy?"

"Oh, yes," said Lawrence. "I have them in my trunk."

"Keep 'em whar you kin put your han' on 'em," said Aunt Patsy, impressively. "You may want 'em yit. You min' my wuds."

"I shall be sure to remember," said Lawrence, as he hastened out to rejoin Annie.

"What in the world had Aunt Patsy to say to you?" asked that somewhat surprised young lady.

Then Lawrence told her how some time before Aunt Patsy had given him a pair of blue shoes, which she said would act as a preventive charm, in case Mrs Keswick should ever wish to do him harm, and that she had now called him back to remind him not to neglect this means of personal protection. "I can't imagine," said Lawrence, "that your aunt would ever think of such a thing as doing me a harm, or how those little shoes would prevent her, if she wanted to, but I suppose Aunt Patsy is crack-brained on some subjects, and so I thought it best to humor her, and took the shoes."

"Do you know," said Miss Annie, after walking a little distance in silence, "that I am afraid Aunt Patsy has done a dreadful thing, and one I never should have suspected her of. Aunt Keswick had a little baby once, and it died very young. She keeps its clothes in a box, and I remember when I was a little girl that she once showed them to me, and told me I was to take the place of that little girl, and that frightened me dreadfully, because I thought that I would have to die, and have my clothes put in a box. I recollect perfectly that there was a pair of little blue shoes among these clothes, and Aunt Patsy must have stolen them."

"That surprises me," said Lawrence. "I supposed, from what I had heard of the old woman, that she was perfectly honest."