Miss Theodosia's Heartstrings Part 20

John Bradford came that evening to sit on the porch in the soft warmth that autumn had borrowed from summers-to-come, with promissory note to pay it back when lovers were through with it. Miss Theodosia met him with the news.

"Mustn't it be beautiful to be welcomed home like that, dear? If you could have seen Evangeline's little shiny face! And the way Elly Precious laughed--when I tickled him! And, oh, John--Do you hear me call you John? I thought it would be hard!"

"'And, oh, John--'" he prompted, putting it yet further off by a kiss-length.

"Oh, John, I know about Carruthers. You're going to take him away to cure him."

"To try to cure him," John Bradford said gravely.

"You'll do it, dear--you and the Lord! Evangeline and I are trusting.

Hark, she is coming! No one else sounds like that!"

"No one else gallops--canters--breaks speed limits!" he laughed. "Now what? More news?"

The same news over again, but Evangeline saw that which momentarily banished it from her mind. She saw John Bradford standing behind Miss Theodosia's chair; she saw him stoop over it.

"Mercy gracious, he kissed her!" gasped Evangeline. Something told her to turn and gallop back, but she could not stop in time. She was already at the foot of the steps. Awful embarra.s.sment seized her--seized Evangeline! In the faint, reflected lamplight from within the house she could see the two above her looking down. Mercy gracious!

"Sit down, Evangeline."

"I'm s-sittin'--I _think_ I'm sittin' down." Up-standings and down-sittings were confused in the general dizziness of things. Perhaps she was standing up.

"You're not sick, are you, Evangeline? You're not saying anything."

Then Evangeline said something.

"I--I saw him--doin' it, I mean. Mercy gracious, _what'll I do_?" For some inherited delicacy of instinct made of her a dreadful intruder; she saw herself in the shameful act. Instinctively Evangeline knew she was on sacred ground.

"I couldn't stop, I was goin' so fast. It's too late not to see him doin' it; I don't know what to do."

With swift, light steps Miss Theodosia was down beside her. John Bradford with one step was there. Evangeline looked shamefacedly up into their two kind faces.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. For answer, John Bradford took one of Miss Theodosia's hands and laid it on hers. He held out one of his own.

"May I have this lady to be my wedded wife, Evangeline? Will you give her to me?" His big voice was very tender. Evangeline looked into his shining eyes. The mystery of love swept through her small, sweet soul.

She shut her eyes as if from some light too bright for them. If she were alone, she would say her prayers. But the tender voice was going on.

"May I have her, Evangeline--will you put her hand in mine? She is very dear, indeed, to me." She could feel Miss Theodosia's soft hand quiver against her own hard little palm. Miss Theodosia's eyes were tender, too.

Then, suddenly, inspiration came to her. She laid the soft hand in the big hand and looked up, smiling into John Bradford's face.

"I'm willin'," she said, "if you'll honor an' obey."

It was as if a silken gown enfolded Evangeline's straight little shoulders and they heard her say: "I p.r.o.nounce thee." The strange little ceremony left them hushed.

No one spoke again for a little s.p.a.ce. Somewhere sleepy birds twittered, disturbed by rustling leaves or stealthy marauders. Somewhere a clock intoned distantly. A train far away rushed through the night, perhaps to some Lonesome Land, but they were not on it. Then John Bradford broke the spell. He leaned down and kissed Evangeline.

A little laugh bubbled up to him. "You must've made a mistake. I'm the wrong one--mercy gracious!"