Old Ebenezer Part 31

"I wasn't expecting them," Lyman replied, "but I made them feel at home."

Mrs. McElwin looked at him with a cool smile. "Yes," she said, "for home probably means a fight with most of them. It was an outrage and everybody is glad that you sent them off with broken heads. Of course there has been a great deal of talk, but have you any idea as to who lead the party?"

"Not the slightest," Lyman answered, and the girl looked up at him.

"Some one has been mean enough, so a very dear friend told us, to insinuate that--that father knew of it in time to have prevented it,"

she said.

"Eva, why should you mention such a thing. Mr. Lyman couldn't give it credence, even for a moment." She frowned.

"Mr. McElwin was kind enough to come to me the next morning," said Lyman. "He was very much moved, and I feel that if he could he would have the ruffians punished."

"I thank you for saying that, Mr. Lyman," Mrs. McElwin spoke up. "I know he would." She glanced about and appeared to be nervous under the gaze of the people on the hill. "I don't know what they think of us three sitting here together," she said. "People out here are peculiar."

"Let them think," the girl replied.

Lyman looked down and saw her shapely foot on the rock. The light was strong where she sat, and he noticed a freckle on her cheek, and this slight blemish drew her closer to him.

"But we must respect their thoughts," the mother replied.

"We should not put ourselves out on account of their prejudices,"

Lyman was bold enough to remark. The girl smiled at him.

"Perhaps not," Mrs. McElwin weakly agreed.

"Perhaps not!" Eva repeated. "Mother, you don't seem to think that I am just as human as any of those girls up there, that I have practically the same feelings. But I am, and I am not a bit better than they--not any better than that girl up there under the tree talking to that young man. Why, he's from town."

"He is Mr. Warren, my partner," said Lyman.

"Oh, is he? They say he is such a funny man. But he's nice looking. I have seen him many a time, and he was pointed out to me once, but I had forgotten his name."

"We'd better go now," said Mrs. McElwin.

"Oh, not yet," the daughter replied. "There's plenty of time. It won't take us long to drive home. And besides, we haven't congratulated the preacher yet. And there he comes now, down this way. See that girl draw back as if she were going to throw something at Mr. Warren. He must be a tease. Look at that old man laughing. Everybody wants to shake hands with the preacher. I think he did splendidly. He surprised me, I'm sure."

"He surprised us both on one occasion," said Lyman. Eva laughed, but her mother looked grave. "Let us not speak of that," she said. "It has caused us trouble enough; and not even now do I fully understand it.

Oh, I know that the legislature made some sort of blunder and that Henry Bostic had been ordained, but I cannot realize that I am sitting here talking to my daughter's legal husband. Still we can get accustomed to anything in time, I suppose."

"I can hardly realize that I am a married man," Lyman replied. Mrs.

McElwin looked at him with a start, as if his words hurt her, as if she suddenly felt that she was doing a grave injustice to her husband to sit there talking to a man who would not have been permitted to cross her threshold. She got up. "We must go," she said.

"Oh, not now," the daughter pleaded.

"Yes, we must go."

"But can't you let me stay and come home with Mr. Lyman."

If the mother had been startled before she was shocked now. "If you talk like that, my daughter, I shall not believe that you are very much different from the girls up there. Do you want your father scandalized? Pardon me, Mr. Lyman, but I must speak plainly to her."

Lyman, who had also arisen, bowed to her. "No offense," he said. "I am thoroughly in harmony with the absurdity of my position, even if I can't realize that I am married."

Mrs. McElwin winced. "Please don't repeat that again," she said.

The girl stamped her foot upon the rock. "Don't talk that way," she commanded. "If Mr. Lyman wants me to stay and go home when he does no one could prevent it. He can command me to stay."

Mrs. McElwin fluttered, but afraid of a scene, she smoothed herself down. "I was joking," she said.

"We will go now," the daughter replied, "but I do wish you would stay.

I'd like to go up there among those girls. I know they are having a good time. Help me up." She put out her hand and Lyman took hold of it, but she pulled back, laughing. "Help me up." She put out the other hand, her mother looking on in a fright. "You'll have to help me into the buggy," she said.

CHAPTER XXV.

AT NANCY'S HOME.

Lyman stood gazing after them as they drove away. The girl waved her hand at him, and then removing her glove, she waved it again. He saw the mother turn to her as if with a word of caution. The road was crooked, and a clump of bushes, a leafy bulge, soon hid them from view. Lyman walked slowly and not light of heart, up the hillside to the tree beneath which he had seen Warren and his new-found friends.

There they were, sitting on the ground, eating.

"You are just in time for a snack," old man Pitt cried, waving the leg of a chicken.

"And here is some pie that Miss Nancy baked with her own hands," said Warren, moving closer to the girl to make room for his friend. "I have been telling Mr. Pitt about your funny marriage."

"Yes," Pitt spoke up, "and I was tellin' of him that if I was in your place and wanted her, now that I had the law on my side, I'd have her or a fight or a foot race, one or tuther, it wouldn't make much difference which. Of course I mean if I found out after the joke was all over that I wanted her, for I tell you--have a piece of this light corn bread--I tell you that it is a mighty serious thing when a man wants a woman and wants her bad. Here's some pickles--they ain't good, but they'll do at a shake-down. But this here ham's prime. Serious thing, sir, when a man wants a woman and wants her right bad. There's a case in our neighborhood of a young feller goin' crazy after a woman he wanted. It ain't but once in a while, you know, that a feller finds the woman set up to suit him, and when he do find her, why he ought to sorter spit on his hands--figurative like," he made haste to add, catching the reproving eye of his daughter. "Spit on his hands figurative like and give it out cold that he is there to stay till the cows come home. And that reminds me that this here b.u.t.ter ain't of the best. The cow eat a lot of beet tops and it didn't help her b.u.t.ter none, I contend, still some folks wouldn't notice it. I hear 'em say, Mr. Whut's-your-name, that you come from away up yander whar rocks is so plenty on the farms that in a hoss trade it would be big boot if a feller was to throw in a hankerchuf full of dirt. I don't blame you for comin' away from thar."

"It's pretty rocky up there," said Lyman. "One of our humorists--Doesticks," he added, nodding to Warren, "said that we had to slice our potatoes and slip them down edgeways between the rocks."

The old man sprawled himself on the ground and laughed. "Well, if they was to go out a shootin' at liars wheat straw would leak through that feller's hide. How are you gittin' along over thar, Mr. Warren?" he inquired, sitting up and again devoting himself to the chicken.

"First rate, don't know when I've eaten as much."

"Oh, you haven't eat a thing," Miss Nancy protested, looking at him in great surprise. "You'd soon die at this rate."

"You are right, but not of starvation. I suppose they are feeding the preacher," he said, looking round. "Yes, they've got him up there.

Look the women are bringing him things from all directions. Lyman, your people didn't wait to congratulate him. I think it hurt him, too, for I saw his countenance fall. You must have said something to hurry the old lady off."

"No, on the contrary I rather urged her to stay."

"Yes, and that's what sent her off."

"But what's to be the outcome of the affair?" the old man asked. "Of course you wouldn't want to tie her up so she couldn't marry anybody else, though I honor your pluck in not lettin' 'em force you into signin' the paper. McElwin is a mighty over-bearin' sort of a man. I worked a piece of land year before last over on the creek near a field that belonged to him, and sir, the hired feller that delved and swetted thar 'peered like he thought it was a great privilege to drag himself over the ground that belonged to McElwin. He p'inted him out one day as he driv along in a buggy and when my eyes didn't pop out of my head he was might'ly 'stonished. Yes, sir, they think the Lord was proud of the job when that man was put on earth. Well, I believe they are gettin' ready to go back into the house, and if you folks want to go, don't let me hold you."

"Ain't you goin' to hear him, pap?" the girl asked, getting up and brushing the twigs from her skirt.

"Wall, I don't believe I will jest at the present writin'," he drawled. "He's a good old feller and all that sort of thing, and I reckon he do love the Lord, but he nipped me in a hoss swop about twenty-odd year ago, and whenever I hear him preach I can't git it out of my head that he's trying to nip me agin."

"Why, pap, that was long before he joined the church."