A Forest Hearth: A Romance of Indiana in the Thirties Part 34

THE DIMPLER

CHAPTER XIII

THE DIMPLER

Billy Little soon found Dic and greeted him with, "Well, we haven't got her yet."

"No, but when she recovers, we will have her. What an idiot I was to allow that old woman to make me angry!"

"You are right for once, Dic," was Billy's consoling reply. "She has been waiting for an excuse to turn you from her doors, and you furnished it. I suppose you can never enter the house again."

"I don't want to enter it, unless by force to take Rita. Why didn't I take her long ago? It serves no purpose to call myself a fool, but--"

"Perhaps it's a satisfaction," interrupted Billy, "a satisfaction to discover yourself at last. Self-knowledge is the summit of all wisdom."

"Ah, Billy Little, don't torture me; I am suffering enough as it is."

Billy did not answer, but took Dic's hand and held it in his warm clasp for a little time as they walked in silence along the street.

The two disconsolate lovers who had come a-kidnapping remained over night in Indianapolis, and after breakfast Billy suggested that they discuss the situation in detail.

"Have you thought of any plan whereby you may communicate with Rita?" he asked.

"No," answered Dic.

"Do you know any of her girl friends?"

"The very thing!" exclaimed Dic, joyous as possible under the circ.u.mstances. "I'll see Miss Tousy, and she will help us, I'm sure."

"Is she sentimentally inclined?" queried Billy.

"I don't know."

"Is her face round or oval?"

"Oval," replied Dic, in some perplexity.

"Long oval?"

"Rather."

"Good!" exclaimed Billy. "Does she talk much or little?"

"Little, save at times."

"And her voice?"

"Low and soft."

"Better and better," said Billy. "What does she read?"

"She loves Shakespeare and Sh.e.l.ley."

"Go to her at once," cried Billy, joyfully. "I'll stake my life she'll help. Show me a long oval face, a soft voice speaking little, and a lover of poetry, and I'll show you the right sort of heart. But we must begin at once. Buy a new stock, Dic, and have your shoes polished. Get a good pair of gloves, and, if you think you can handle it properly, a stick. Fine feathers go farther in making fine birds than wise men suppose. Too much wisdom often blinds a man to small truths that are patent to a fool. I wish you were small enough to wear my coat."

Dic congratulated himself upon his bulk, but he took Billy's advice regarding the gloves and stock. Billy was a relic of the days of the grand beaux, when garments, if they did not make the man, at least could mar the gentleman, and held his faith in the omnipotence of dress, as a heritage from his youth--that youth which was almost of another world.

Dic was one of the few men whose splendor of person did not require the adornments of dress. All women looked upon his redolence of life and strength with pleasure, and soon learned to respect his straightforward, fearless honesty. Miss Tousy had noted Dic's qualities on previous occasions, and valued him accordingly. She was also interested in Rita, who was her protegee; and she was graciousness itself to Dic that day as she asked him,

"What good fortune brings you?"

"It is bad fortune brings me, I am sorry to say," returned Dic.

"Yesterday was the unluckiest day of my life, and I have come to you for help."

Miss Tousy's kind heart responded, as Billy Little had predicted.

"Then your ill luck is my good fortune. In what way can I help you? I give you _carte blanche_; ask what you will."

"I will not hold you to your offer until I tell you what I want. Then you may refuse if you feel that--"

"I'll not refuse," answered the kindly young lady. "Go on."

"You know that Ri--, Miss Bays, is--has been for a long time--that is, has promised to be--"

"I know. But what has happened?"

"It's a long story. I'll not tell you all. I--"

"Yes, tell me all--that is, if you wish. I'm eager to hear all, even to the minutest details. Don't mind if the story is long." And she settled herself comfortably among the cushions to hear his sentimental narrative. Dic very willingly told the whole story of yesterday's woes, and Miss Tousy gave him her sympathy, as only a woman can give. It was not spoken freely in words, merely in gestures and little ejaculatory "ah's," "oh's," and "too bad's"; but it was soothing to Dic, and sweet Miss Tousy gained a lifelong friend.

"You see," said Dic, after he had finished his story, "I cannot communicate with Rita. She is ill, and I shall be unable to hear from her."

"I'll keep you informed; indeed I will, gladly. Oh, that hard old woman!

There is no hallucination so dangerous to surrounding happiness as that of the Pharisee. Mrs. Bays has in some manner convinced herself that her hardness is goodness, and she actually imposes the conviction upon others. Her wishes have come to bear the approval of her conscience.

Every day of my life I grow more thankful that I have a sweet, gentle mother. But Mrs. Bays intends right, and that, perhaps, is a saving grace."

"I prefer a person who intends wrong and does right to one who intends right and does wrong," replied Dic. "I know nothing so worthless and contemptible as mistaken good intentions. But we should not criticise Rita's mother."

"No," returned Miss Tousy; "and I'll go to see Rita every day--twice a day--and will write to you fully by every mail."

"I intend to remain at the inn till she recovers. I couldn't wait for the mail."

"Very well, that is much better. I'll send you word to the inn after each visit, or, if you wish, you may come to me evenings, and I'll tell you all about her. Shall I see you to-night, and shall I carry any message?"

"Tell her I will remain till she is better, and--and then I--I will--that will be all for the present."

Billy Little was for going home at noon, but Dic begged him to remain.

The day was very long for Dic, notwithstanding Billy's companionship, and twice during the afternoon he induced his friend to exhibit the Brummel coat at the street-crossing a short distance south of the house wherein the girl of girls lay ill and grieving. After much persuasion, Billy consented to accompany Dic on his visit that evening to Miss Tousy. The Schwitzer coat was carefully brushed, the pale face was closely shaved and delicately powdered, and the few remaining hairs were made to do the duty of many in covering Billy's blushing baldness.