The Opened Shutters Part 22

"I'll tell you what," suggested John, "send me there. I'll go."

"Do you know her?"

"Used to--well. I haven't seen her for years. It's her family I referred to when I spoke of friends of mine going up into Cas...o...b..y."

"Yes. Hawk Island."

"That's the place. I was invited there once, but couldn't accept."

"Very nice girl, Edna," remarked the judge.

Dunham emitted a noiseless whistle. "She must be a wonder," he replied.

"I didn't know there were any nice girls."

"You think you're smart, don't you?" said the judge.

"I shall if I get an errand to Miss Derwent to-morrow."

"Then who's to go to the Tide Mill?" demanded the lawyer.

"You and Miss Lacey, hand in hand. It's fitting that you should protect one another."

"Miss Lacey lives with Edna Derwent at the island in the summer,--keeps house for her, plays watch-dog, and all that sort of thing."

"Indeed? How small the world is! I knew I felt drawn to Miss Lacey. I'd forgotten until you mentioned it how I adore Miss Derwent. Do give me the detail, Judge."

"Get out. You can't do that Boston business. I suppose you'd better mail this letter to Miss Lacey," tossing the missive over to the young man's desk.

"I can take it to her house this evening. I have to go to thank her for my handkerchief that she sent back. Do you want me to--no!" with a sudden turn back to his desk.

"Do I want you to what?"

"Nothing."

"Don't be an idiot!" exclaimed the lawyer, exasperated by his own indecision concerning this affair so foreign to his experience.

"No, it's none of my business," said Dunham.

"Do I want you to ask Miss Lacey if she'll go up to the farm? Yes, I do. Tell her all expenses paid."

After supper that night, for they had supper at six in this rural city of Seaton, John Dunham took a trolley car for the tree-lined street where Miss Lacey's cottage stood behind its row of poplars.

"Utterly inappropriate," mused Dunham, smiling to himself as he glanced up at these "old maids of the forest." "They would be far better placed in front of Judge Trent's. He is a bachelor by conviction."

Miss Lacey saw the young man coming up the walk, and herself opened the door, although she kept a little maid of fourteen, who attended school by day and a.s.sisted Miss Martha in her free hours for her board and lodging.

"How do you do, Mr. Dunham?" she said, brow and voice anxious. "I hope nothing bad has brought you."

"Do you call grat.i.tude and admiration bad?" asked John, as she hastily shook hands with him.

"There's very little of either ever walks in this door," returned Miss Martha dejectedly. "Step into the parlor, please. I'll pull up the shades in one minute."

She suited the action to the word, and as she threw open a window the scent of lilacs floated into the room. "These are nice long evenings, aren't they?" she pursued lugubriously. "What are you grateful for, Mr.

Dunham?"

"My handkerchief, of course."

"Law! Your handkerchief!" repeated Miss Lacey. "Do sit down."

A swift glance at the spider-legged furniture caused John to choose the haircloth sofa, whose shining surface bulged substantially. He wondered where the judge used to sit. Any of the chairs would have held him, but perhaps they both used this sofa. If so, they must have led a migratory existence; and perhaps its slipperiness had infected and undermined the stability of the judge's affections.

"You didn't need to make any fuss about the handkerchief," added Miss Martha.

"Indeed I should," replied Dunham, immediately conscious of beginning to glide, and anchoring himself with an arm across the mahogany back.

"It would be sacrilege ever to use such a miracle of whiteness and shine, with a cameo monogram."

"How foolish," returned Miss Martha, visibly cheered.

"No, indeed," continued John; "I'm going to have it framed and hung where my laundress can use it for a model."

His companion emitted a faint laugh. "I'm glad you can joke," she said, "and it's real kind of you to come and thank me for such a trifle. Oh, Mr. Dunham, I haven't had a happy minute since that day we were in Boston. I was just now sitting down to write a letter to Thinkright. He doesn't know the suspense I'm in. I suppose she's told him how hateful I was, and he thinks I don't care."

"Yes, a letter came only to-day. Here it is. It was one of my errands to bring it."

"Good news? Oh, is it good news?" Miss Lacey's att.i.tude changed alertly, and she seized the offered envelope.

"I don't know," replied John. "She's there."

His companion had already torn open the sheet, and was reading greedily.

"Oh, dear--_dear_!" she e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed above her breath. At last she looked up. "The judge showed you this, of course?"

"No."

"Then"--

"No, really, Miss Lacey, it's none of my business, you see."

"None of your business, after you've been so _kind_ and taken such an _interest_? I should say it is! Listen."

John brought his teeth together in a resigned sigh while his hostess read aloud, occasionally lifting her eyes to comment. At the close he spoke.

"I was surprised to learn that you and Miss Derwent are friends."

"Oh, you know her?" asked Miss Martha absently.

"Up to a few years ago, I did, very well."