The Wrong Woman Part 23

Luckily he did not. She pushed Geography aside and took a new sheet of foolscap with every prospect of pa.s.sing. At first it had looked very much as if she were going to fail.

Steve's withdrawal had merely been due to the sudden realization that he was making a great deal of noise in the court-house; whereupon he saw that, all things considered, he could contain himself better somewhere else. He went down the stairs, through the corridor, and out of the grounds. Thence his feet carried him clean to the other side of town.

When he found himself upon the silent sh.o.r.e of the prairie he turned about with the intention of going straight back, but he was three times delayed, first at the hitching-rack in front of "Hart's General Store,"

where a knot of story-tellers halted him to tell him about the phenomenal good time of his herder, and again in front of the post-office, where another group of loiterers had to be listened to; and finally, having made his escape when he felt that it was high time to go, he had the bad luck to run into Judge Tillotson, whose propensity to talk was such that he could not be denied a hearing without good excuse.

When he at last arrived at the foot of the court-house path, he saw Janet sitting on the bench under the china-berry tree. How long had she been waiting for him? As she caught sight of him she began dabbing her eyes hastily with her handkerchief. Steve saw this. His stride lengthened as he came up the path. Having reached the bench he dropped down suddenly beside her, his arm extended along the top of the bench at her back.

"How did you make out, Miss Janet?"

There was a lugubrious attempt at a smile as she turned her eyes toward him. The tears had been put into her pocket; but still he could see that her eyes were swimming. To him they looked more wonderfully gentle, more wholly true than any eyes he had ever seen.

"Well--Mr. Brown--I failed," she said.

"What! Didn't he let you pa.s.s?"

"I already had a third-cla.s.s certificate, you know."

"Yes; but that is n't any good to you."

"No," she said meditatively. "Even second-cla.s.s would have got me that school near Merrill. I think I would have pa.s.sed, too, if he had only been fair in Geography and History."

"What? Did he do anything that wasn't on the square?" he asked sternly.

"Oh, I did n't mean it that way. It is always possible to be unfair in Geography and History, you know,--and besides there is a good deal of luck about it, too. He said he would have let me pa.s.s, but he had decided to raise the standard."

She felt his arm stiffen behind her like an iron bar. She thought he was going to rise.

"But he was _perfectly_ fair," she added quickly.

Steve's muscle relaxed slowly; he resumed his former lax att.i.tude and fell to thinking.

"You deserve to get a certificate and you _did n't_," he said, suddenly sitting up again. "It is n't _right_."

This last word came out as sharp as a challenge to fight. He seemed to have stiffened up in the saddle with the straight look of indomitable will. Janet's eyes opened wider with the impression she got of him.

"Oh, it is n't a great matter--except that--of course--it is a little disappointing."

"Yes. And somebody that it doesn't make any difference about will come along and pa.s.s." His eye still had fight in it. "You like Texas?" he said suddenly. "Don't you think it is a pretty good state?"

"Oh, yes, indeed," answered Janet. "I was very much in hope of being able to stay. If I had only had more time to study--more time--"

There was a quaver in her voice, and she let the sentence end itself there.

He sat for a moment looking straight at the middle of the path before him. Then deliberately he turned about, put his arm behind her again, and took her hand in his.

"Janet," he said, "if you had been here in two or three months from now, there was a question I had all made up to ask you."

"A question?"

"As long as you might have to go away, I might as well tell you now--before you are gone. I was going to ask you in two or three months whether, if---- But no. That is n't fair. What I mean is, _will_ you marry me? Would you?"

Janet paused during a s.p.a.ce that would best be represented by a musical rest--a silence in the midst of a symphony. Then her clear eyes turned toward him.

"Yes, Steve; I would."

"You would! Do you mean that _now_--for keeps?"

"I could go and live with you anywhere in the world. I could _almost_ have answered that two days ago."

Her hand was taken tighter in his grasp. The edge of his sombrero touched the top of her head, and she felt herself being taken under its broad brim with a sense of everlasting shelter. And just then they were interrupted. A visitor to the court-room came up the path--unnoticed till he was almost past. At the same time there was a sound of footsteps coming down the courthouse steps. It was the Professor. Seeing which Steve released her hand and a.s.sumed a more conventional public att.i.tude until this particular spectator should be gone. The Professor pa.s.sed. He kept on his way down the path and did not look back; whereupon Steve took possession of her hand again. It was such a fine delicate hand to him--so small and tender a hand to have to grapple with things of this rough world; he looked at it thoughtfully and hefted it as so much precious property in his own.

"I am mighty glad you said that," he offered. "I was afraid you might have to leave. That's why I wanted you to pa.s.s."

"And that's why I _wanted_ to pa.s.s, too," she said.

Now that the coast was clear they resumed their confessions. At times they sat in silence, holding hands.

As the time approached when they ought to start back, they were reminded to make more definite plans. He would take her to Merrill, leave the horse and buggy there, and come home to Thornton on the night train. On the following day he would come down with one of his own horses to get the buggy and she could ride up "home" with him and catch the early train back.

"I want you to come up right away and look over the house and get acquainted with the neighborhood."

"Are we going to have nice neighbors?" she asked.

"First-cla.s.s. A mighty fine lot of folks. They 'll all put themselves out to accommodate you. I think you 'll like them."

"Oh, I know I shall," she answered.

"And I 'll have something I want to give you, too. And we can talk things over and make up our minds about the date. I don't see any use in waiting a long time, do you?"

"Well--no; not too long. But of course there are quite a number of things that need to be done first."

"Yes--of course," he mused. "Quite a number of things that have to be done. And there 's the license to get, too," looking up suddenly at the court-house.

"What!--right now?"

"We might as well get it while we 're right here, don't you think? I might have to come out here after it anyway--and maybe the Comanche would be up and on a rampage. Here we are right now. And there's the court-house."

"It does seem the most sensible way--of course. You had better do whatever you think best."

Upon receiving this commission he arose and proceeded for the license.

As he set foot upon the court-house steps he paused and looked back at her. He was straight as a ramrod; there was self-confidence in his carriage and pride in his mien.

"I 'll bet ten dollars _I 'll_ pa.s.s," he said.

CHAPTER XII