The Lilac Girl Part 8

Wade swung around with a start and found himself looking over the hedge-top into a smiling, ruddy, gold-spectacled countenance.

"Spenser, I think, sir," continued the stranger, "but I'll not he certain. Perhaps you recall the lines?"

"I'm afraid I don't," replied Wade, pa.s.sing through the gateway.

"No? But like enough the poets aren't as much to a busy, practical man like you, Mr. Herrick, as they are to me. Even I don't find as much time to devote to them as I'd like, however. But I haven't introduced myself nor explained my presence in your garden. My name is Crimmins, Doctor Crimmins."

"Glad to know you, Doctor," replied Wade, as they shook hands. "It was friendly of you to call, sir."

The Doctor tucked his gold-headed cane under his arm and thrust his hands into the pockets of his slate-colored trousers, a proceeding which brought to view the worn satin lining of the old black frock-coat.

"Wait until you know us better, sir, and you'll not speak of it as kindness. Why, 'tis a positive pleasure, a veritable debauch of excitement, Mr. Herrick, to greet a newcomer to our mislaid village! The kindness is on your side, sir, for dropping down upon us like--like--"

"A bolt from the blue," suggested Wade.

"Like a dispensation of Providence, sir."

"That's flattering, Doctor. Won't you come in?"

"Just for a moment." At the sitting-room door the Doctor paused. "Well!

well!" he exclaimed, reverently under his breath. "Nothing changed! It's ten years ago since I stood here, Mr. Herrick. Dear me! A fine Christian woman she was, sir. Well! Well! 'Time rolls his ceaseless course.' Bless me, I believe I'm getting old!" And the Doctor turned his twinkling gray eyes on Wade with smiling dismay.

"Try the rocking chair, Doctor Crimmins. Let me take your hat and cane."

"No, no, I'll just lay them here beside me. I see you've chosen the best room for your chamber, sir. You're not one of us, Mr. Herrick, that's evident. Here we make the best room into a parlor, the next into a sitting-room, the next into a spare room and sleep in what's left. We take good care of our souls and let our bodies get along as best they may. You, I take it, are a Southron."

"From Virginia, Doctor, and, although I've been in the West for some six years, I hope I haven't entirely forgotten Southern hospitality.

Unfortunately my sideboard isn't stocked yet, and all the hospitality I can offer is here." He indicated his flask.

"H'm," said the Doctor, placing his finger-tips together and eying the temptation over his spectacles. "I believe I've heard that it is an insult to refuse Southern hospitality. But just a moment, Mr. Herrick."

He arose and laid a restraining hand on. Wade's arm. "Let's not fly in the face of Providence, sir." He guided his host into the dining-room and softly closed the door, cutting off the view from the front window.

Then he drew a chair up to the table and settled himself comfortably.

"We are a censorious people, Mr. Herrick."

"As bad as that, is it?" laughed Wade as he placed gla.s.ses on the cloth and brought water from the kitchen.

"We are strictly abstemious in Eden Village," replied the Doctor, gravely, "and only drink in dark corners. Your very good health, sir.

May your visit to our Edenic solitude prove pleasant."

"To our better acquaintance, Doctor."

"Thank you, sir, thank you. Ha! H'm!" And the Doctor smacked his lips with relish, wiped them carefully on his handkerchief and led the way back to the sitting-room.

"And now, Mr. Herrick, to come to the second object of my call, the first being to extend you a welcome. Zenas--I refer to our worthy Merchant Prince, Mr. Zenas Prout--Zenas informed me last evening that you had been a close friend of Ed Craig's, had, in fact, been in partnership with him in some Western mining-enterprise; that Ed had died and that you had come into his property. That is correct?"

"Quite, sir."

"I brought him into the world. I'm sorry to hear of his death. Well, well! 'Our birth is nothing but our death begun, as tapers waste that instant they take fire.' Young's 'Night Thoughts,' Mr. Herrick. Full of beautiful lines, sir." The Doctor paused a moment while he cleaned his spectacles with a corner of his coat. "Let me see; ah, yes. I wonder if you know that you have next door to you Ed's only surviving near relative?"

"I learned it only an hour ago, Doctor."

"I see. I felt it my duty to inform Miss Walton of her cousin's death and called on her at noon. Miss Walton's parents and Ed's were not intimate when the two were children; some silly misunderstanding in regard to a division of old Colonel Phelps's property after he died. As it turned out they might have spared themselves the quarrel, for a later will was afterwards found leaving his entire estate to churches and schools. Well, I was going to say that Ed's death was not much of a grief to Miss Walton because she had really never known him, but, nevertheless, she would naturally wish to hear the particulars. I came to suggest that you should give me the honor of allowing me to present you to Miss Walton, Mr. Herrick."

"I shall be very glad to meet her," replied Wade, "and tell her all I can about Ed. We were very close friends for several years and a finer chap never breathed."

"I'm delighted to hear you say so. I've brought a good many into this world, Mr. Herrick, but very few have ever made me proud of the fact."

"I fear you're a bit of a pessimist, Doctor."

"No, no, I'm only honest. With myself, that is. In my dealings with others, sir, I'm--just an ordinary New Englander."

"That sounds hard on New Englanders," said Wade with a smile. "Do you mean to say that they're not honest?"

"New Englanders are honest according to their lights, Mr. Herrick, but their lights are sometimes dim. Shall we say this evening for our call on the ladies? Miss Walton has with her a Miss Mullett, a very dear and estimable girl who resides with her in the role of companion. I say girl, but you mustn't be deceived. When you get to sixty-odd you'll find that any lady under fifty is still a girl to you. Miss Mullett, through regrettable circ.u.mstances, was overlooked by the seekers after wives and is what you would call a maiden lady. She plays a remarkable hand of cribbage, Mr. Herrick."

"This evening will suit me perfectly, Doctor."

"Then shall we say about half-past seven? We don't keep very late hours in Eden Village. We sup at six, make our calls at seven or half-past, and go to bed promptly at ten. A light in a window after ten o'clock indicates but one thing, illness."

"How about burglars?" laughed Wade.

"Burglars? Bless my soul, we never have 'em, sir. Sometimes a tramp, but never a burglar. Even tramps don't bother us much." The Doctor chuckled as he rescued his hat and cane from beside his chair. "Zenas Prout tells a story to show why Eden Village is exempt. We have a lady here, Mr.

Herrick, who should have been of rights a descendant of old Colonel Phelps, Ed's grandfather on his mother's side. The old Colonel's name was synonymous for--let us say self-denial. The lady in question is a very estimable lady, sir, oh, very estimable, but, while she is probably our richest citizen, she is extremely careful and saving. Zenas says a tramp stopped at her door once and asked for food. Miss Cousins--there, I didn't mean to give her name! But no matter--Miss Cousins brought him a slice of stale bread thinly spread with b.u.t.ter. Zenas says the tramp looked from the bread to Miss Cousins, who, I should explain is extremely thin in face and figure, and back to the bread. Then he held it out to her. 'Lady,' he said, 'I haven't the heart to take this from you. You need it more than I do. Eat it yourself!'"

Under cover of Wade's appreciative laughter the Doctor made his adieux, promising to call again at half-past seven. Wade watched him depart down the street, very erect and a trifle pompous, his gold-headed stick serving no other purpose than that of ornament. Then he went indoors and walked to the mirror.

"Gee!" he muttered, "I wish my trunk were here!"

VIII.

The parlor at The Cedars was very different from that in the Craig cottage. It was pretty and comfortable, with lamps that diffused a cheerful, mellow glow over the lower half of the room and left the upper in pleasantly mysterious gloom. There was much old-fashioned furniture--such as the spindle-legged card table at which Miss Mullett and the Doctor were deeply absorbed in cribbage--but enough comfortable modern chairs had been provided to render martyrdom unnecessary. The four windows were hung with bright creton and muslin, and the dull-green carpet neither stared one out of countenance nor made one fearful to set foot upon it. It was a jolly, chummy sort of carpet that seemed to say, "Walk on me all you want to, and don't be afraid to spill your crumbs; I like crumbs." A very large tortoise-sh.e.l.l cat lay stretched along the arm of the couch, half asleep, and purred as Eve dipped her fingers in the long fur. The windows on the side of the room were open and the draperies swayed gently with the little breeze. Wade, seated at the other end of the couch from his hostess, was feeling happy and inexplicably elated.

"I feel quite guilty about this morning," Eve was saying. "I'm afraid I wasn't very polite. Did I--did I smile?"

"If you didn't, you were a saint," answered Wade. "It's a wonder to me you didn't howl!"

"It was funny, though, wasn't it? Now that it's all over, I mean; now that I've apologized and Carrie has apologized for me and you've apologized. You did look so--so utterly dumfounded!"

"I was!" replied Wade grimly. "For a moment I thought I'd had a sunstroke or something and was out of my head. At first, when I came in and saw you standing there, I thought--it was a foolish thing to think, of course--but I thought you had come to call on me!"

"Again?"

"Again? I'm afraid I don't--"

"Now let's be honest, Mr. Herrick. You did see me the--the first time, didn't you?"