Nobody Part 89

"But we? We must deal with things as they are."

"How are you goin' to deal with 'em?"

"In charity and kindness; having patience with what is wrong, and believing that the good G.o.d will have more patience yet."

"You had better believe what he tells you," the old lady answered, somewhat sternly.

"But grandmother," Lois put in here, "he _does_ have patience."

"With whom, child?"

Lois did not answer; she only quoted softly the words--

"'Plenteous in mercy, long-suffering, abundant in goodness and truth.'"

"Ay, child; but you know what happens to the houses built on the sand."

The party broke up here, Mrs. Barclay bidding good-night and leaving the dining-room, whither they had all gone to eat apples. As Philip parted from Lois he remarked,--

"I did not understand the allusion in Mrs. Armadale's last words."

Lois's look fascinated him. It was just a moment's look, pausing before turning away; swift with eagerness and intent with some hidden feeling which he hardly comprehended. She only said,--

"Look in the end of the seventh chapter of Matthew."

"Well," said Mrs. Barclay, when the door was closed, "what do you think of our progress?"

"Progress?" repeated Philip vacantly. "I beg your pardon!"--

"In music, man!" said Mrs. Barclay, laughing.

"O!--Admirable. Have you a Bible here?"

"A Bible?" Mrs. Barclay echoed. "Yes--there is a Bible in every room, I believe. Yonder, on that table. Why? what do you want of one now?"

"I have had a sermon preached to me, and I want to find the text."

Mrs. Barclay asked no further, but she watched him, as with the book in his hand he sat down before the fire and studied the open page. Studied with grave thoughtfulness, drawing his brows a little, and pondering with eyes fixed on the words for some length of time. Then he bade her good-night with a smile, and went away.

He went away in good earnest next day; but as a subject of conversation in the village his visit lasted a good while. That same evening Mrs.

Marx came to make a call, just before supper.

"How much pork are you goin' to want this year, mother?" she began, with the business of one who had been stirring her energies with a walk in a cool wind.

"I suppose, about as usual," said Mrs. Armadale.

"I forget how much that is; I can't keep it in my head from one year to another. Besides, I didn't know but you'd want an extra quant.i.ty, if your family was goin' to be larger."

"It is not going to be larger, as I know."

"If my pork ain't, I shall come short home. It beats me! I've fed 'em just the same as usual,--and the corn's every bit as good as usual, never better; good big fat yellow ears, that had ought to make a porker's heart dance for joy; and I should think they were sufferin'

from continual lowness o' spirits, to judge by the way they _don't_ get fat. They're growing real long-legged and slab-sided--just the way I hate to see pigs look. I don' know what's the matter with 'em."

"Where do you keep 'em?"

"Under the barn--just where they always be. Well, you've had a visitor?"

"Mrs. Barclay has."

"I understood 'twas her company; but you saw him?"

"We saw him as much as she did," put in Charity.

"What's he like?"

n.o.body answered.

"Is he one of your high-flyers?"

"I don't know what you call high-flyers, aunt Anne," said Madge. "He was a gentleman."

"What do you mean by _that?_ I saw some 'gentlemen' last summer at Appledore--and I don't want to see no more. Was he that kind?"

"I wasn't there," said Madge, "and can't tell. I should have no objection to see a good many of them, if he is."

"I heard he went to Sunday School with Lois, through the rain."

"How did you know?" said Lois.

"Why shouldn't I know?"

"I thought n.o.body was out but me."

"Do you think folks will see an umbrella walkin' up street in the rain, and not look to see if there's somebody under it?"

"_I_ shouldn't," said Lois. "When should an umbrella be out walking, but in the rain?"

"Well, go along. What sort of a man is he? and what brings him to Shampuashuh?"

"He came to see Mrs. Barclay," said Madge.

"He's a sort of man you are willin' to take trouble for," said Charity.

"Real nice, and considerate; and to hear him talk, it is as good as a book; and he's awfully polite. You should have seen him marching in here with Lois's wet cloak, out to the kitchen with it, and hangin' it up. So to pay, I turned round and hung up his'n. One good turn deserves another, I told him. But at first, I declare, I thought I couldn't keep from laughin'."

Mrs. Marx laughed a little here. "I know the sort," she said. "Wears kid gloves always and a little line of hair over his upper lip, and is lazy like. I would lose all my patience to have one o' them round for long, smokin' a cigar every other thing, and poisonin' all the air for half a mile."

"I think he _is_ sort o' lazy," said Charity.

"He don't smoke," said Lois.