The Wayfarers Part 6

She felt herself a little in awe of his keen blue eyes, in spite of his kindness; she thought she preferred a dark man.

She clung to Justin's arm at the crossings and ferry, and hardly heard his words, bewildered by the unaccustomed sights and sounds and the weakness of her knees. Her feet slipped on the cobblestones, the hurrying people made her dizzy, and the electric lights danced before her eyes.

As they were standing on the boat, two men came up to speak to Justin; she gathered that they had heard of the accident and of his journey from Mrs. Alexander at the whist club the night before, and stopped now to make courteous inquiries. One, who was short and stout, with a pleasant if commonplace face, pa.s.sed on, after his introduction to Dosia; but the other turned back, as he was following, to say:

"By the way, I see that there was a fire in your new quarters to-day, Alexander."

"A fire! For Heaven's sake, Barr--"

"Oh, I don't think it amounted to much; there's just a line in the evening paper about it. Here, read for yourself-'fire confined to one floor, machinery slightly damaged.' Insured, weren't you?"

"Oh, yes, yes-that isn't the point now. We can't afford to be kept back a minute! I'm glad you told me; I must go-I must go back at once and see for myself." He stopped and looked hopelessly at Dosia.

Short as the journey was now, he could not let her continue it by herself; yet every fiber in him was quivering in his wild desire to get over to the scene of disaster. He looked at his informant, who, in his turn, was regarding the girl beside Justin.

"I can go on by myself," said Dosia, divining his thought, and wondering when this terrible journey would ever end. "Truly, I can. I know you want to go and see about the fire; please, please do! Oh, please!"

"Barr, will you take charge of Miss Linden?" asked Justin abruptly. He did not particularly like Barr, but this was an emergency. "Will you take her to Mrs. Alexander?"

"I will, indeed," said the newcomer, with responsive earnestness.

"Very well, then; I'll go back on this boat. I'll be out on a later train, tell Lois." He started to make his way to the other end of the boat, to be in readiness for the return trip, and turned back once more to give the girl her ticket; then he was lost to sight, and Theodosia was left, for the third time, on the hands of an unknown man.

This one only spoke to give her the necessary directions as they joined the usual rush for the train, and refrained from talking, to her great relief, after he had settled her comfortably in the car for the last half-hour of traveling. She leaned against the window-casing, as before, as far away from him as possible, suddenly and wretchedly aware of her dilapidated appearance and the boy's cap that covered the fair hair curling out from under it. Her cheeks were whiter than ever, and the corners of her mouth had the pathetic droop of extreme fatigue.

She looked, without knowing it, very young, very forlorn, and very frightened, and the hand in which she held the ticket given her by Justin trembled. She was morbidly afraid that this new person would question her as to the accident, about which she shrank from speaking; but after a while, encouraged by his silence, she tried to turn her thoughts by stealthily observing him.

If her friend of the voice and hand of the night before had been only a tall blur in the darkness, the man beside her was effectively concrete.

Neither tall nor large, he gave an impression of strength and vitality in the ease and quickness of his motions, which bespoke trained muscles.

She decided that he was rather old-perhaps thirty. Dark-skinned, black-haired, with a thin face, a low forehead, deep-set eyes, a high, rather hooked nose, and a mustache, he was somewhat of the Oriental type, although, as she learned later, a New Englander by birth and heritage. Dosia was not quite sure whether the effect was pleasing or the reverse; there seemed to be something about him different from the other men she had seen, even in his clothing, although it was plain enough.

Interspersed with these observations were the increasing throbs of homesickness that threatened to overwhelm her. Kind as Justin had been, she had felt all the time outside of his thought and affection. This new companion had shown consideration for her; she was grateful for it, but she was unprepared to have him lean suddenly toward her, as a tear trembled perilously on her lashes, and say, with twinkling eyes:

"I beg your pardon, but do I look like him?"

"Like-like whom?" asked Dosia, in amazement.

"Like a person to be approved of."

"I haven't considered the subject," said Dosia, with swift dignity.

"Ah, you see, it's the reverse with me. As soon as Mrs. Alexander told me she was expecting you, my mind was filled with visions of a sweet young thing from the South. All sweet young things from the South have dreams; mine was to embody yours. And when I saw you, I said to myself-I beg your pardon, do you think I am getting too personal, on such short acquaintance?"

"Yes," answered Dosia, dimpling in spite of herself, "very much too personal." She turned her head away from him, that she might not see those sparkling, quizzical eyes so close.

"Very well; I will finish the sentence to-morrow, as you suggest. In the meantime, let me ask you if you have ever made a collection of conductors' thumbs?"

"No!" said Dosia, in astonishment, turning around again to face him.

"I am told that there is a great deal of character in them; it is given by the broad, free movement of punching tickets. I have thought of collecting thumbs for purposes of study-in alcohol, of course. But why do you look so surprised?"

"I am surprised that you have no collection already," said Dosia, with spirit; "you seem to be so enterprising."

He shook his head sadly. "No. How little you know me! I'm not enterprising in the least; I have no heroic virtues, I'm only-loving."

"Oh!" cried Dosia, and stopped short in a ripple of merriment that was more invigorating than wine, and that brought a rush of color to her cheeks.

"No? well, not until the day after to-morrow, then, if you say so.

You're so very, very good to me, Miss Linden; it's not often I find anyone so considerate as you are. And have you come up North to make your entrance into society?"

"I have come North to study music," said Theodosia impressively.

"Music! Ah, there you have me." He spoke with a new soberness.

"Do you like it?"

"I like it almost better than anything else in the world-too much, and yet not enough, after all." He shook his head with a quick, somber gesture. "I'll help you with the music, if you'll let me. Did you notice how very quickly we became acquainted? Yes? I know now why; it puzzled me at first. It was the music in you to which I responded-I can tell you just what little song of Schubert's your smile is from, if you'll give me time."

"No," said Dosia, "it isn't from Schubert at all, and you'll never find the key-note to it, so you needn't try." She could not help daring a little, in her girlishness.

He laughed. "Oh, I shall make it my business to find out. For what else what I const.i.tuted your guardian at the beginning of your career? And it's so good of you to say that I can come to-morrow and pour out my heart to you! Shall it be at five? No, please don't trouble to answer; I like to look at your ear in that position-it's so pearly. Too personal again? Then let us converse about your Old Kentucky Home."

"It isn't in Kentucky," interpolated Dosia desperately, but there was no stopping him. He was so irrelevantly absurd that she succ.u.mbed at last entirely, and hardly knew when they left the train; when they walked up the path to her cousin's door, they were both laughing causelessly and irresponsibly, in delightful comradeship.

He turned to Dosia after he had rung the bell and said, "Good night."

"Aren't you coming in to see my cousin?"

"Oh, yes; but this is our farewell. Please make it as touching as you can."

She looked up frankly as she gave him her hand and said:

"Thank you for taking charge of me."

"And making a fool of myself? It was in a good cause, at any rate. But what I wanted you to say was--"

She did not hear, for the door had opened, and he only waited a moment inside the house to explain her husband's absence to Mrs. Alexander. The news arrested her greeting to Dosia, whom she held tentatively by the hand as she repeated:

"Justin went back to the fire! Oh, I'm so sorry! Do you think that it was very bad?"

"The paper said not."

"It must be out now, anyway. I'm so disappointed that he did not come home, and I have such a nice little dinner. Will you not stay, Lawson?"

"Thank you-I wish I could." There was a penetrative, lingering flash of those still quizzical eyes at Dosia as he made his adieus, and then he was gone. Why should she feel alone?

Her cousin's arms were at last around her in welcome, the warmer for being deferred; and the little Zaidee, whom she would have known from Justin's description of her, was standing first on one tiptoe and then on the other, waiting to be kissed before going off to bed, as she announced. From above came the sound of small running feet, and a child's voice calling:

"Cousin Dosia-I want to see my Cousin Dosia!" A bare foot and leg surmounted by a fluttering sc.r.a.p of white raiment was thrust through the bal.u.s.ters, followed by a protesting scream as his nurse heavily pursued the fugitive with upraised voice: