Mrs. Tree Part 21

I always think that a government office should be representative _of_ the government. I have a print at home, a bird's-eye view of Washington in 1859, which I will send you if you like. I suppose you have an express frank? No? How mean of Congress! What did you say this mountain was?"

Mr. Homer, who had received Mrs. Pryor's remarks in meekness and--so far as might be--in silence, waving his head and arms now and then in mute dissent, now looked up at the mountain photograph; he opened and shut his mouth several times before he found speech.

"The picture," he said, slowly, "represents a--a--mountain; a--a--in short,--a mountain!" and not another word could he be got to say about it.

Doctor Stedman had a long round to go that day, and it was not till late afternoon that he reached home and found a message from Mrs. Tree saying that she wished to see him. He hastened to the house; Direxia, who had evidently been watching for him, opened the door almost before he knocked.

"Nothing serious, I trust, Direxia!" he asked, anxiously. "I have been out of town, and am only just back."

"Hush!" whispered Direxia, with a glance toward the parlor door. "I don't know; I can't make out--"

"Come in, James Stedman!" called Mrs. Tree from the parlor. "Don't stand there gossiping with Direxia; I didn't send for you to see her."

Direxia lifted her hands and eyes with an eloquent gesture. "She is the beat of all!" she murmured, and fled to her kitchen.

Entering the parlor Doctor Stedman found Mrs. Tree sitting by the fire as usual, with her feet on the fender. Sitting, but not attired, as usual. She was dressed, or rather enveloped, in a vast quilted wrapper of flowered satin, tulips and poppies on a pale buff ground, and her head was surmounted by the most astonishing nightcap that ever the mind of woman devised. So ample and manifold were its flapping borders, and so small the keen brown face under them, that Doctor Stedman, though not an imaginative person, could think of nothing but a walnut set in the centre of a cauliflower.

"Good afternoon, James Stedman!" said the old lady. "I am sick, you see."

"I see, Mrs. Tree," said the doctor, glancing from the wrapper and cap to the bowl and spoon that stood on the violet-wood table. He had seen these things before. "You don't feel seriously out of trim, I hope?"

Mrs. Tree fixed him with a bright black eye.

"At my age, James, everything is serious," she said, gravely. "You know that as well as I do."

"Yes, I know that!" said Doctor Stedman. He laid his hand on her wrist for a moment, then returned her look with one as keen as her own.

"Have you any symptoms for me?"

"I thought that was your business!" said the patient.

"Hum!" said Doctor Stedman. "How long, have you been--a--feeling like this?"

"Ever since yesterday; no, the day before. I am excessively nervous, James. I am unfit to talk, utterly unfit; I cannot see people. I want you to keep people away from me for--for some days. You must see that I am unfit to see anybody!"

"Ha!" said Doctor Stedman.

"It agitates me!" cried the old lady. "At my age I cannot afford to be agitated. Have some orange cordial, James; do! it is in the Moorish cabinet there, the right-hand cupboard. Yes, you may bring two gla.s.ses if you like; I feel a sinking. You see that I am in no condition for visitors."

The corners of Doctor Stedman's gray beard twitched; but he poured a small portion of the cordial into two fat little gilt tumblers, and handed one gravely to his patient.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "'PERHAPS THIS IS AS GOOD MEDICINE AS YOU CAN TAKE!' HE SAID."]

"Perhaps this is as good medicine as you can take!" he said.

"Delicious! Does the secret of this die with Direxia? But I'll put you up some powders, Mrs. Tree, for the--a--nervousness; and I certainly think it would be a good plan for you to keep very quiet for awhile."

"I'll see no one!" cried the old lady. "Not even Vesta, James!"

"Hum!" said Doctor Stedman. "Well, if you say so, not even Vesta."

"Vesta is so literal, you see!" said Mrs. Tree, comfortably. "Then that is settled; and you will give your orders to Direxia. I am utterly unfit to talk, and you forbid me to see anybody. How do you think Vesta is looking, James?"

Doctor Stedman's eyes, which had been twinkling merrily under his s.h.a.ggy eyebrows, grew suddenly grave.

"Badly!" he said, briefly. "Worn, tired--almost sick. She ought to have absolute rest, mind, body, and soul, and, instead of that, here comes this--"

"Catamaran?" suggested Mrs. Tree, blandly.

"You know her better than I do," said James Stedman. "Here she comes, at any rate, and settles down on Vesta, and announces that she has come to stay. It ought not to be allowed. Mrs. Tree, I want Vesta to go away; _she_ is unfit for visitors, if you will. I want her to go off somewhere for an entire change. Can it not be managed in some way?"

"Why don't you take her?" said Mrs. Tree.

The slow red crept into James Stedman's strong, kindly face. He made no reply at first, but sat looking into the fire, while the old woman watched him.

At last--"You asked me that once before, Mrs. Tree," he said, with an effort; "how many years ago was it? Never mind! I can only make the same answer that I made then. She will not come."

"Have you tried again, James?"

"Yes, I have tried again, or--tried to try. I will not persecute her; I told you that before."

"Has the little idiot--has she any reason to give?"

Doctor Stedman gave a short laugh. "She doesn't wish it; isn't that reason enough? I said something about her being alone; I couldn't help it, she looked so little, and--but she feels that she will never be alone so long as--that is, she feels that she has all the companionship she needs."

"So long as what? So long as I am alive, hey?" said the old lady. Her eyes were like sparks of black fire, but James Stedman would not meet them. He stared moodily before him, and made no reply.

"I am a meddlesome old woman!" said Mrs. Tree. "You wish I would leave you alone, James Stedman, and so I will. Old women ought to be strangled; there's some place where they do it, Cap'n Tree told me about it once; I suppose it's because they talk too much. She said she shouldn't be alone while I lived, hey? Where are you going, James? Stay and have supper with me; do! it would be a charity; and there's a larded partridge with bread sauce. Direxia's bread sauce is the best in the world, you know that."

"Yes, I know!" said Doctor Stedman, his eyes twinkling once more as he took up his hat. "I wish I could stay, but I have still one or two calls to make. But--larded partridge, Mrs. Tree, in your condition! I am surprised at you. I would recommend a cup of gruel and a slice of thin toast without b.u.t.ter."

"Cat's foot!" said Mrs. Tree. "Well, good-night, James; and don't forget the orders to Direxia: I am utterly unfit to talk and must not see any one."

CHAPTER XVII.

NOT YET!

How it happened that, in spite of the strict interdict laid upon all visitors at Mrs. Tree's house, Tommy Candy found his way in, n.o.body knows to this day. Direxia Hawkes found him in the front entry one afternoon, and pounced upon him with fury. The boy showed every sign of guilt and terror, but refused to say why he had come or what he wanted.

As he was hustled out of the door a voice from above was heard to cry, "The ivory elephant for your own, mind, and a box of the kind with nuts in it!" Sometimes Jocko could imitate his mistress's voice to perfection.

Mrs. Weight, whom the news of Mrs. Tree's actual illness had wrought to a fever-pitch of observation, saw the boy come out, and carried the word at once to Mrs. Pryor; in ten minutes that lady was at the door clamoring for entrance. Direxia, her ap.r.o.n at her eyes, was firm, but evidently in distress.

"She's took to her bed!" she said. "I darsn't let you in; it'd be as much as my life is wuth and her'n too, the state she's in. I think she's out of her head, Mis' Pryor. There! she's singin' this minute; do hear her! Oh, my poor lady! I wish Doctor Stedman would come!"

Over the stairs came floating, in a high-pitched thread of voice, a sc.r.a.p of eldritch song: