Sunlight Patch Part 50

"She's in mighty bad shape, dat's how she is!"

The Colonel stood a great deal from Timmie and Zack, for much less than a tenth of which he would have sent another negro off his place in double quick.

"Who is the lady?" he asked, not over pleased at her humor.

"Nem'min' who de lady is! But she's a suah-footed, elegant an' lovely angel, dat's got moh human kindness in her den anyone I sees a-lookin'

at _me_!"

"Come, come," the Colonel frowned, "don't answer me in this childish way! Who is the lady?"

"Well, take a peep--bofe of you--but mind, don' make no fuss!"

She edged to one side, all the while watching Brent as they came near for the promised peep. His face flushed quickly, but the Colonel looked more carefully and, turning, whispered:

"I can't see her! Who is it?"

As she told them how Nancy had come, tears gathered in the old gentleman's eyes and his chin quivered with strong emotion.

"See that she wants for nothing," he said gently. "When the doctor is through, bring her right over and have everything comfortable."

"I'se done planned dat out, Ma.r.s.e John," she spoke with her more accustomed tenderness. "She's gwine have de room 'crost from Miss Liz, an' fresh _boo_-kays eve'y day. We'se comin' over 'foh long, too; fer de doctor say he ain' gwine take no moh skin offen her." Then suddenly she exclaimed: "What, in de land sake, is de matter wid you-all's pants?"

But he had turned, and in deep thought started across the gra.s.s to the big house, leaving her in open-mouthed amazement.

"One doesn't see much handsomer things than that girl has showed us," he said to Brent, who was keeping somewhat in advance.

"No," he answered over his shoulder.

Awhile longer the old gentleman walked with bowed head, then asked:

"Why your abstraction, sir?"

Brent wheeled and faced him. He was crimson with shame, and blurted out two short sentences:

"I'm a pup, Colonel! I've no right to walk with you!"

"Eh--wha--what do you mean, sir?"

The old gentleman stood rooted to the spot, one foot in advance as he had just begun his last stride. He had not even raised his head, but was looking up from under frowsy brows with eyes that were grave and startled. Against his will some old whisperings of months ago insistently recurred to him.

Brent now took a few steps back and fearlessly met those accusing eyes.

"One time I tried to hurt that girl," he said squarely. "I got her to meet me at night, because she didn't know any better, and I didn't give a d.a.m.n. But she showed me what a scoundrel I had intended to be then, and she's just showed me again. She told me about Dale's blind sister then, and now she's telling that all over again, too. It gets next to me, Colonel, and if anybody wants to kick me about your farm till dinner, he can begin when he's ready!"

"All right--er--Gridley," the old gentleman smiled. "In the ratio of your repentance I feel proportionately happy. You've relieved my mind of a cloud that has shut out a lot of sunshine these past months, which otherwise would have been entirely bright. So I absolve you, sir! Now let the talk die."

"Talk?" Brent flushed a deeper red. "Are they saying anything about it?"

"Emphatically no!--not the girls, at any rate. There may have been some--er--slight mention."

"Oh, I hate that," he cried, feeling his soul cringe for the injustice he had brought upon her.

"So do I, sir," the Colonel quickly declared, not understanding. "But you must let me a.s.sure you that the girls have given it little attention. They never gossip, sir!--for gossips, sir, are the most arrant of cowards! No one's character is safe from them, sir! They take a grain of fact," the old gentleman's face was becoming flushed as he thundered forth this pet denunciation, "and plant it in soil manured with the rottenest intentions, sir! And it grows into a b.a.s.t.a.r.d of truth, exhaling odors as vitiated as the breath of a toad! The very saints could not be revivified from such a poison, much less our poor selves, sir, who strive a lifetime constructing character for those d.a.m.ned polluters to blight with their graveyard whisperings! I detest it, sir! The stench of it is repulsive to honest men and gentle women!

But come," he added more genially, "before we spoil our breakfasts."

Miss Liz was waiting at the table and she poured their coffee with more than her usual concern. The Colonel could invariably detect in what humor that dear lady happened to be by the way she rendered him this service. He told her of Mesmie's condition, and portions of the other news imparted by Aunt Timmie--breathing no word of the man-hunt, or what had led to it. For awhile her usually severe face was softened, and then she arose.

"You must both get on without me this morning," she said, with a faint smile. "I must go to that girl, for she needs someone besides Timmie, and Timmie needs rest." At the door she hesitated. "Have I not told you, brother John, that the middle cla.s.s is our country's safeguard?--that we would be in a sorry plight without it?"

Meaning no unkindness toward Nancy, but to vindicate himself in a former argument--and, of course, having kept from her the unpleasant termination of the mountaineer's visit, he said:

"Had she not come, we might have had Dale. You know that he offered himself."

"Yes, and I am very glad; for Dale is of that great treasure house--the middle cla.s.s!"

The Colonel cleared his throat. "Well, my dear, I gathered from Timmie that Brent, not once but twice, offered the same service most handsomely."

"Cut it!" Brent, flushing, whispered savagely across at him.

"One may always depend upon a gentleman," she drew herself up with dignity, "to meet any situation!"

"Then it is not a question of cla.s.s, but of being a gentleman, that should decide," the Colonel chuckled.

But Miss Liz swept haughtily from the room and her untenable position, her answer trickling back to them until she reached the porch:

"There has been too much n.o.ble generosity shown upon your place during these twelve hours for you and me, John, to part with mutual recriminations!"

Straining his ears to catch the last of this, the old gentleman looked resignedly at Brent. "A wonderful inst.i.tution is woman," he sighed. "By the way, where is Dale?"

Uncle Zack, whose wondering eyes had scarcely left their travel stained clothing, answered that he was in the library. Yet, as breakfast progressed, he did not come, so the Colonel and Brent, having finished, now arose to go after him.

"I want to tell you," the engineer said, as they stepped into the hall, "that I feel a lot better after our talk on the lawn this morning. I did everything I could to apologize, and she has let me stay her staunchest friend."

The old gentleman pa.s.sed an arm about him. It was eloquent of confidence and extreme affection which words would have belittled.

"She is a n.o.ble girl," he murmured; then, gravely shaking his head: "but what I cannot understand is where she gets those sterling qualities. Her breeding must be most inferior!"

"Colonel, you've seen a lot more of the world than I, but it seems to me that pedigree isn't worth half as much as charity and common horse sense."

"Those qualities," he retorted, now glowering at the engineer, "are traits which every man possesses in his own estimation, and in which he regards his neighbors as singularly lacking!"

"I was never more convinced of it, sir," Brent laughed. "Now, I'm going to bed--what are you going to do?"

"I think," the poor old Colonel sighed wearily, "I'll sleep right here, leaning against these banisters."