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We brought her back to her room, and she didn't know whether to be happy that she was vindicated or mad at the state her things were in. I tucked her up in bed after she'd gone over her belongings and Mr. Pierce had double-locked the window and gone out. She drew my head down to her and her eyes were fairly popping out of her head.
"I feel as though I'm going crazy, Minnie!" she whispered, "but the only things that are gone are my letters from Mr. Jones, and--my black woolen tights!"
CHAPTER XIX
NO MARRIAGE IN HEAVEN
I slept late the next morning, and when I'd had breakfast and waded to the spring-house it was nearly nine. It was still snowing, and no papers or mail had got through, although the wires were still in fair working order.
As I floundered out I thought I saw somebody slink around the corner of the spring-house, but when I got there n.o.body was in sight. I was on my knees in front of the fireplace, raking out the fire, when I heard the door close behind me, and when I turned, there stood Mr. d.i.c.k, m.u.f.fled to the neck, with his hat almost over his face.
"What the deuce kept you so late this morning?" he demanded, in a sulky voice, and limping over to a table he drew a package out of his pocket and slammed it on the table.
"I was up half the night, as usual," I said, rising. "You oughtn't to be here, Mr. d.i.c.k!"
He caught hold of the rail around the spring, and hobbling about, dropped into a chair with a groan.
"For two cents," he declared, "I'd chop a hole in the ice pond and drown myself. There's no marriage in Heaven."
"That's no argument for the other place," I answered, and stopped, staring. He was pulling something out of his overcoat pocket, an inch at a time.
"For G.o.d's sake, Minnie," he exclaimed, "return this--this garment to--whomever it belongs to!"
He handed it to me, and it was Miss Cobb's black tights! I stood and stared.
"And then," he went on, reaching for the package on the table, "when you've done that, return to 'Binkie' these letters from her Jonesie."
He took the newspaper off the bundle then, and I saw it was wrapped with a lavender ribbon. I sat down and gazed at him, fascinated. He was the saddest-eyed piece of remorse I'd seen for a long time.
"And when you've got your breath back, Minnie," he said feebly, "and your strength, would you mind taking the floor mop and hitting me a few cracks? Only not on the right leg, Minnie--not on the right leg. I landed on it last night; it's twisted like a pretzel."
"Don't stand and stare," he continued irritably, when I didn't make a move, "at least get that--that infernal black garment out of sight.
Cover it with the newspaper. And if you don't believe that a sweet-faced young girl like my wife has a positive talent for wickedness and suspicion, go out to the shelter-house this morning."
"So it was you!" I gasped, putting the newspaper over the tights.
"Why in the name of peace did you jump out the window, and what did you want with--with these things?"
He twisted around in his chair to stare at me, and then stooped and clutched frantically at his leg, as if for inspiration.
"Want with those things!" he snarled. "I suppose you can't understand that a man might wake up in the middle of the night with a mad craving for a pair of black woolen tights, and--"
"You needn't be sarcastic with me," I broke in. "You can save that for your wife. I suppose you also had a wild longing for the love-letters of an insurance agent--"
And then it dawned on me, and I sat down and laughed until I cried.
"And you thought you were stealing your own letters!" I cried. "The ones she carries fire insurance on! Oh, Mr. d.i.c.k, Mr. d.i.c.k!"
"How was I to know it wasn't Ju--Miss Summers' room?" he demanded angrily. "Didn't I follow the dratted dog? And wouldn't you have thought the wretched beast would have known me instead of sitting on its tail under the bed and yelling for mother? I gave her the dog myself. Oh, I tell you, Minnie, if I ever get away from this place--"
"You've got to get away this minute," I broke in, remembering. "They'll be coming any instant now."
He got up and looked around him helplessly.
"Where'll I go?" he asked. "I can't go back to the shelter-house."
I looked at him and he tried to grin.
"Fact," he said, "hard to believe, but--fact, Minnie. She's got the door locked. Didn't I tell you she is of a suspicious nature? She was asleep when I left, and mostly she sleeps all night. And just because she wakes when I'm out, and lets me come in thinking she's asleep, when she has one eye open all the time, and she sees what I'd never even seen myself--that the string of that d.a.m.ned garment, whatever it is, is fastened to the hook of my shoe, me thinking all the time that the weight was because I'd broken my leg jumping--doesn't she suddenly sit up and ask me where I've been? And I--I'm unsuspicious, Minnie, by nature, and I said I'd been asleep. Then she jumped up and showed me that--that thing--those things, hanging to my shoe, and she hasn't spoken to me since. I wish I was dead."
And just then a dog barked outside and somebody on the step stamped the snow off his feet. We were both paralyzed for a moment.
"Julia!" Mr. d.i.c.k cried, and went white.
I made a leap for the door, just as the handle turned, and put my back against it.
"Just a minute," I called. "The carpet is caught under it!"
Mr. d.i.c.k had lost his head and was making for the spring, as if he thought hiding his feet would conceal him. I made frantic gestures to him to go into my pantry, and he went at last, leaving his hat on the table, I left the door and flung it after him--the hat, of course, not the door--and when Miss Summers sauntered in just after, I was on my knees brus.h.i.+ng the hearth, with my heart going three-four time and skipping every sixth beat.
"h.e.l.lo!" she said. "Lovely weather--for polar bears. If the natives wade through this all winter it's no wonder they walk as if they are ham-strung. Don't bother getting me a gla.s.s. I'll get my own."
She was making for the pantry when I caught her, and I guess I looked pretty wild.
"I'll get it," I said. "I--that's one of the rules."
She put her hands in the pockets of her white sweater and smiled at me.
"Do you know," she declared, "the old ladies' knitting society isn't so far wrong about you! About your making rules--whatever you want, WHENEVER you want 'em."
She put her head on one side.
"Now," she went on, "suppose I break that rule and get my own gla.s.s?
What happens to me? I don't think I'll be put out!"
I threw up my hands in despair, for I was about at the end of my string.
"Get it then!" I exclaimed, and sat down, waiting for the volcano to erupt. But she only laughed and sat down on a table, swinging her feet.
"When you know me better, Minnie," she said, "you'll know I don't spoil sport. I happen to know you have somebody in the pantry--moreover, I know it's a man. There are tracks on the little porch, my dear girl, not made by your galoshes. Also, my dearest girl, there's a gentleman's glove by your chair there!" I put my foot on it. "And just to show you what a good fellow I am--"
She got off the table, still smiling, and sauntered to the pantry door, watching me over her shoulder.
"Don't be alarmed!" she called through the door, "I'm not coming in! I shall take my little drink of nature's benevolent remedy out of the tin ladle, and then--I shall take my departure!"