I Walked in Arden Part 18

"Mary!" he turned and shouted, "c'mon down here a minute." All this time he carefully guarded the door so that entrance was not possible. I had the intelligence at last to seat Helen on the porch steps while "Mary"

made suitable toilet above stairs. The old woman came down in a red flannel mother Hubbard, from which stray ruffles of her nightgown protruded.

"What's all this foolishness about, Henry?" she inquired sharply.

"Young fellow and his girl--says she's hurt," Henry replied.

"Are they married?"

"Dunno. I don't take much stock in the story myself."

"If you'll allow me to explain--" I ventured, thinking it about time I took a hand in the dialogue.

"Tell them my name, Ted. Every one around here knows father," Helen suggested. Why had I not thought of this before?

"Miss Claybourne has had a fall from her horse and is hurt," I began.

"Martin Claybourne's girl?" the old woman interrupted.

"Yes."

"Lives on Myrtle Boulevard?"

"Yes."

"Henery, you old dumbhead, open that door and get a light in the parlour. Land sakes, men is fools. Bring the child right in here. Dear, dear, Martin Claybourne's little girl hurt and you standing there shutting the door in her face--how you expect to answer to your Maker on the great day, the Lord only knows. Where are you hurt, darling?" This to Helen as I almost carried her in and laid her on the best horsehair sofa.

"I've only wrenched my knee, thank you," Helen smiled.

"I'll get you a hot poultice just as soon as I get a fire in the stove.

We'll fix you all up while the men folks are telephoning. I do believe I've got a bottle of arnica up in the store closet," and she shooed "Henery" and me out of the room. I had the luck to get Mr. Claybourne on the telephone almost immediately, and partly explained to him the situation, as far as the accident was concerned, while "Henery"

contributed directions where to reach us: "Tell him it's Five Mile Farm on South Ridge--Henery Tyler's place." This done, "Henery" a.s.sisted me to put the horses in the barn and to make Leonidas fast to a post. I was now anxious to return to Helen, but "Henery" put obstacles in the way: "Better leave the womenfolk alone--pertickly as you ain't married, till Mary gets that poultice fixed." I brushed his objections aside and went into the parlour. Mrs. Tyler let out a piercing shriek, for poor Helen's bare and badly swollen knee was exposed to view. Helen laughed: "It's all right, Mrs. Tyler--Ted and I--well, I want him to help."

"Land sakes!" exclaimed Mrs. Tyler, "I remember you in short dresses--seems like it was only yesterday, walkin' down Myrtle Boulevard with your dad--and do you mean to say you and him--?"

"Yes," Helen said with a dear look at me, covering her knee shyly. I rushed to her side, seizing the arnica bottle to disguise my confusion.

"My, my, how time flies!" Mrs. Tyler continued, moralizing the spectacle from beneath her curl papers. "Why, you ain't no more'n a child. How long you been keepin' company?"

"Not very long," Helen replied, her hand in mine. "You won't let that poultice burn, will you, Mrs. Tyler?"

"Land sakes, no! Clean forgot all about it. To think that numbskull Henery tried to shut the door in your face, and the minister preachin'

about the good Samaritan only last Sunday--" and she mercifully departed in search of the poultice. We could hear her in the kitchen giving "Henery" an additional "piece of her mind," as she would have called it.

"Why didn't you tell me at first that you knew these people, sweetheart?" I asked. "It would have saved you some of the pain of standing." I tried to be reproachful.

Helen giggled happily. "I wanted to see if you could manage it, Ted. It was too delicious to watch you lose your temper on my account because you went at 'Henery' Tyler the wrong way. I'll never again send you as amba.s.sador to one of our farmers. You even offered him money!" and she laughed. I, felt there was a defence to my actions, but could think of none.

"Now, Ted, do you think we ought to leave my knee alone until we see a doctor, or shall we try the arnica and Mrs. Tyler's poultice?"

"I don't know," I said. "I hate to experiment with a knee without expert advice, but I don't believe arnica will do any harm, and the poultice will be warming."

Helen promptly displayed her knee again, and I gingerly applied the arnica. Mrs. Tyler returned with a steaming poultice.

"Now, dearie, you must have it on just as hot as you can stand it," she said, making a great bustle of preparation.

"Feel it, Ted, and see if I can stand it. I don't want to be blistered,"

Helen whispered. I seized the poultice as Mrs. Tyler held it in mid-air ready to apply it violently. I gave an involuntary "Ouch!" it was so hot. Mrs. Tyler refused to yield without a struggle.

"It's what I always do for Henery's rheumatics--catches him in the back when he's splittin' wood for the kitchen stove. Once I give him a good hot poultice he never complains of his back again that season." Poor man, with such a dire penalty instantly exacted, who would commit a second offence? Under further protests I got the poultice sufficiently cool, and I bound it in place with quite a workmanlike-looking bandage.

When all had been put to rights as well as it could be, "Henery" was admitted. He bore a tray of biscuits, a pitcher of milk, and pie. Both Helen and I recalled with a laugh that we hadn't thought of food since our campfire of the early afternoon.

"We can't eat in the parlour," said the tactful Helen, aware of how great an enormity this must seem to a farmer's wife.

"Now, dearie, don't you fret yourself. You ain't agoin' to stir, not if I can help it. I guess the parlour can put up with it for once, if a certain long-faced fool will wipe his feet before he comes trapesin'

in." The latter part of this remark was directed at "Henery" who promptly retreated and was heard vigorously sc.r.a.ping in the pa.s.sage.

"I don't suppose you have any spirits--whisky, for instance? I think a drink would do Miss Claybourne good after the shock she's had." I noticed Helen's eyes dance as I said this, and she leaned forward eagerly to hear the reply.

"Spirits!" gasped Mrs. Tyler. "You mean rum?"

"Well," I said, "rum will do, if it's all you have." Helen made a mysterious and unaccountable noise--something like a choke.

"Praise the Lord, there ain't no liquor ever pa.s.sed my lips--let 'lone my threshold!" she e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "Henery" stuck his head in at the door: "I've got a little somethin' I keep for my backache up in the hayloft,"

he ventured timorously. "If Miss Helen needs a little for medicinal purposes, same as I do occasionally, she's welcome," and he disappeared rather hastily. "There goes an example of true courage," I thought, "for it's ten to one he's sacrificing the future as well as the present." The look on Mrs. Tyler's face was awe-inspiring; her lips closed in a firm, tight line and no sound came from them. Under all the circ.u.mstances, however, I didn't envy "Henery." Helen and I did not dare exchange glances; she hurriedly nibbled a biscuit, and I studied a cabinet full of polished sea-sh.e.l.ls. Mrs. Tyler suddenly left the room like a shot from a gun. I turned and went to Helen. She put her arms around my neck and kissed me.

"You dear, dear Ted," she laughed. "I'm going to have such fun watching you put your foot in it all your life!"

"But--but--," I sputtered.

"Yes, darling, I know. You did it for me and with the best intentions.

That will always be your reason, you delicious thing."

"You know--that was our first kiss," I said with an abrupt change of subject.

"Oh, Ted, and I had to kiss you first after all!"

"I seem to flub everything," I remarked, unaccountably nettled. Helen laughed: "If I didn't love you so, Ted, I'd shake you. There now! I've said 'I love you' first, too."

"Henery" entered with a familiar looking bottle, closely followed by Mrs. Tyler.

"There ain't more'n a thimbleful left," he apologized holding it to the light. "My back's been kind of bad during the damp spell."

"Henery Tyler, it ain't rained a mite for six weeks," Mrs. Tyler snapped. I took the bottle from "Henery" and smelt the contents; it was a cheap whisky.

"Will you take a little, Helen?" I asked. "Just to pull you together."

"I don't think I need it, Ted, unless you tell me to take it." I started to hand it back to "Henery," but Mrs. Tyler was too quick for me. She s.n.a.t.c.hed the bottle: "I'll just lock this away in the medicine closet, and when Henery's back troubles him again, he can have it along with one of my hot poultices."