Colonel Carter's Christmas and The Romance of an Old-Fashioned Gentleman Part 6

"And, Chad, bring some gla.s.ses for the gentlemen."

Klutchem settled his large frame in the chair that had been vacated by the Colonel, and watched the gla.s.s being slowly filled from a decanter held in his host's own hands. Fitz and I retired to the vicinity of the sideboard, where he gave me in an undertone an account of the events of the morning.

"Got a nice box of a place here, Colonel," remarked Mr. Klutchem. He remembered the t.i.tle this time--the surroundings had begun to tell upon him. "Cost you much?" and the broker's eyes roamed about the room, taking in the big mantel, the bra.s.s andirons, India blue china and silver candlesticks.

"A mere trifle, suh," said the Colonel, stiffening. The cost of things were never mentioned in this atmosphere. "To a.s.sociate bargain and sale with the appointments of yo' household is like puttin' yo'

hospitality up at auction," he would frequently say.

"A mere trifle, suh," he repeated. "My estates, as you probably know, are in Virginia, near my ancestral town of Caartersville. Are you familiar with that part of the country, suh?"

And thereupon, on the banker's expressing his entire ignorance of Fairfax County and its contiguous surroundings, the Colonel, now that his honor as a duellist had been satisfied by Klutchem's apologies; his friend's ruin averted by the banker's generosity, as was attested by his offering Fitz a barrel full of securities which the day previous were worth their weight in gold; and especially because this same philanthropist was his guest, at once launched forth on the beauty of his section of the State. In glowing terms he described the charms of the river Tench; the meadows knee-deep in clover; the mountains filled with the riches of the Orient looming up into the blue; the forests of hardwood, etc., etc., and all in so persuasive and captivating a way that the practical banker, always on the lookout for competent a.s.sistants, made a mental memorandum to consult Fitz in the morning on the possibility of hiring the Colonel to work off an issue of State bonds which at the moment were dead stock on his hands.

By this time Klutchem, warmed by his host's Madeira and cheery fire, had not only become really interested in the man beside him, but had lost to a certain extent something of his blunt Wall Street manner and hard commercial way of looking at things. It was, therefore, not surprising to either Fitz or myself, who had watched the gradual adjustment of the two men, to hear the Colonel, who had now entirely forgotten all animosity towards his enemy say to Klutchem with great warmth of manner, and with the evident intention of not being outdone in generosity at such a time:

"I would like to show you that gaarden, suh. Perhaps some time I may have the pleasure of entertainin' you in my own home at Caartersville."

Mr. Klutchem caught his breath. He saw the Colonel was perfectly sincere, and yet he could not but admit the absurdity of the situation. Invited to visit the private estate of a man who had caned him the day before, and against whom he was expected in the morning to make a complaint of a.s.sault and battery!

"Oh, that's mighty kind, Colonel, but I guess you'll have to excuse me."

The banker, as he spoke, glanced at Fitz. He didn't want to do anything to offend Fitz--certainly not until the papers in the Consolidated Smelting settlement were complete and the doc.u.ments signed--and yet he didn't see how he could accept.

"But I won't take no for an answer, suh. Miss Caarter will be here in a day or two, and I will only be too happy to discuss with her the date of yo' visit."

Before Klutchem could refuse again Fitz stepped forward, and, standing over Mr. Klutchem's chair, dug his knuckles into the broker's back.

The signal was unmistakable.

"Well, thank you, Colonel. I'll speak to my daughter about it, and if----"

"Yo' daughter, suh? Then I am sure the last obstacle is removed. Miss Caarter will be mo' than delighted, suh, to entertain her, too. I will ascertain my aunt's plans as soon as she arrives, and will let you know definitely when she will be best p'epared for yo' entertainment."

When the party broke up, and Fitz and Mr. Klutchem had been helped on with their coats by Chad, Klutchem remarked to Fitz as we all walked through the tunnel:

"Queer old party, Fitzpatrick; queerest I ever saw. You were right--not a crooked hair in his head. Glad I came. Of course I can't go down to his place--haven't got the time--but I bet you he'd be glad to see me if I did. Funny, too--poor as a rat and busted, and yet he never said 'Garden Spots,' once."

On my re-entering the house,--Fitz had gone on with Klutchem--Chad, who was waiting for me, took me into a corner of the hall and said in a voice filled with disappointment:

"What I tell ye, Major? Ain't dat too bad? I ain't never gwine ter forgib de Colonel for lettin' him git away. Gor-A-Mighty! Did ye see de size of him--hardly git frough de gate! Why, der warn't no chance o' missin' him. Colonel could a-filled him ful o' holes as a sieve."

IV

The Colonel's positive injunction that each one of his friends should call on every one of his guests within forty-eight hours of their arrival was never necessary in the case of Miss Ann Carter. One day was enough for me--one hour would have been more to my liking. Only consideration for her comfort, and the knowledge that she would be somewhat fatigued by her journey from Carter Hall northward, ever kept me away from her that long. Then, again, I knew that she wanted at least one entire day in which to straighten out the various domestic accounts of the little house in Bedford Place, including that complicated and highly-prized pa.s.s-book of the "Grocerman."

And then Chad's delight when he opened the door with a sweep, his face a sunburst of smiles and announced Miss Carter's presence in the house! And the new note in the Colonel's voice--a note of triumph and love and pride! And the touches here and there inside the cosy rooms; touches that only a woman can give--a new curtain here, a pot of flowers there: all joyous happenings that made a visit to Aunt Nancy, as we loved to call her, one of the events to be looked forward to.

But it was not Chad who opened the door on this particular morning.

That worthy darky was otherwise occupied; in the kitchen, really, plucking the feathers from the canvas-back ducks. They had been part of the dear lady's impedimenta, not to mention a huge turkey, a box of terrapin, and a barrel of Pongateague oysters, besides unlimited celery, Tolman sweet potatoes, and a particular brand of hominy, for which Fairfax County was famous.

I say it was not Chad at all who opened the door and took my card, but a sc.r.a.p of a pickaninny about three feet high, with closely-cropped wool, two strings of glistening white teeth--_two_, for his mouth was always open; a pair of flaring ears like those of a mouse, and two little restless, wicked eyes that shone like black diamonds: the whole of him, with the exception of his cocoanut of a head, squeezed into a gray cloth suit bristling with bra.s.s b.u.t.tons and worsted braid, a double row over his chest, and a stripe down each seam of his trousers.

Aunt Nancy's new servant!

The sc.r.a.p held out a silver tray; received my card with a dip of his head, threw back the door of the dining-room, sc.r.a.ped his foot with the flourish of a clog dancer, and disappeared in search of his mistress.

Chad stepped from behind the door, his face in a broad grin. He had crept up the kitchen stairs, and had been watching the boy's performance from the rear room. His sleeves were rolled up and some of the breast feathers of the duck still stuck to his fingers.

"Don't dat beat de lan'! Major," he said to me. "Did ye see dem b.u.t.tons on him? Ain't he a wonder? Clar to goodness looks like he's busted out wid bra.s.s measles. And he a-waitin' on de Mist'iss! I ain't done nothin' but split myself a-laughin' ever since he come. MY!!!"

and Chad bent himself double, the tears starting to his eyes.

"What's his name, Chad?"

"Says his name's Jeems. _Jeems_, mind ye!" Here Chad went into another convulsion. "Jim's his real name, jes' Jim. He's one o' dem Barbour n.i.g.g.e.rs. Raised down t'other side de Barbour plantation long side of our'n. Miss Nancy's been down to Richmond an' since I been gone she don't hab n.o.body to wait on her, an' so she tuk dis boy an' fixed him up in dese Richmond clothes. He says he's free. _Free_, mind ye! Dat's what all dese no count n.i.g.g.e.rs is. But I'm watchin' him, an' de fust time he plays any o' dese yer free tricks on me he'll land in a spell o' sickness," and Chad choked himself with another chuckle.

The door swung back.

"Miss Caarter say dat she'll be down in a minute," said the sc.r.a.p.

Chad straightened his face and brought it down to a semblance of austerity; always a difficult task with Chad.

"Who did you say was yere?" he asked.

"I didn't say--I handed her de kerd."

"How did you carry it?"

"In my pan."

"What did ye do wid de pan?"

The boy's face fell.

"I lef' it in de hall, sah."

"Sah! sah! Don't you 'sah' me. Ain't n.o.body 'sah' round yere but de Colonel. What I tell you to call me?"

"Uncle Chad."

"Dat's it, Uncle Chad. Now go 'long, honey, an' take yo' seat outside wid yo' pan; plenty folks comin', now dey know de Mist'iss here. Dar she is now. Dat's her step, on de stairs, Major. I doan' want her to catch me lookin' like dis. Drap into de kitchen, Major, as ye go out, I got sumpin' to show ye. Dem tarr'pins de Mist'iss fotch wid her make yo' mouf water."

Some women, when they enter a room, burst in like a child just out of school and overwhelm you with the joyousness of their greetings; others come in without a sound, settle into a seat and regale you in monotones with histories of either the attendant misery or the expected calamity.

Aunt Nancy floated in like a bubble blown along a carpet, bringing with her a radiance, a charm, a gentleness, a graciousness of welcome, a gladness at seeing you, so sincere and so heartfelt, that I always felt as if a window had been opened letting in the sunshine and the perfume of flowers.