The Man in Lonely Land

by Kate Langley Bosher

  XIII

  MR. LAINE GOES SHOPPING ALONE

  "Did you ring, sir?"

  Moses, standing at the door, waited, and as he waited he talked tohimself. "Something is the matter with Mr. Laine. He ain't nevercall Gineral's name since he done pass away, and I know the miss ofhim has been a-smartin', but don't seem like that would have made himso restless like he been. 'Tain't like him to come in and go rightout, and come back and go out again. He got something on his mind, akind of warfare like." He coughed slightly and again spoke. "Didyou ring, Mr. Laine?"

  "I did. Five minutes ago. As a member of the leisure class you'dtake a blue ribbon, Moses. Where in the devil are you? Why don'tyou come in? I can't talk to air."

  "I was waitin' to see if I was mistook: about the bell." Moses cameinside the room.

  "Where I come from folks don't step so lively as they do up here, andold Colonel Tayloes, he used to say there ain't nothin' so inelegantas hurry, lessen 'tis worry. But of course I shouldn't have had nodiscussion in my mind about that bell. I got a bad way of projectin'when--"

  "You don't want to move. You have. Any day an affidavit is neededto that effect I'll sign it. Did you go to that address I gave youyesterday?"

  "Yes, sir. I went and I been a-tryin' to forgit I went ever since Igot back. It's God's truth the boy told you, I seen him and his ma,and all the other children 'cept those at work, and the whole of 'emwas livin' in two rooms, and a closet where the biggest boy slept.Their pa he got kilt at the shops where he work, and the lawyer whatundertook to get damages got 'em, and they ain't seen him since."

  "Did you notice the size of the woman and the age of the children?"

  "Yes, sir. The mother she come near 'bout up to my shoulder and wasthin and wore-out lookin'. The two little ones was four and twoyears old. You saw the lame one. There's a girl seven. She's apuller-out of bastin's, her ma said, and the oldest girl is fourteen.She's a runner, or a cash, or somethin' in a store. The biggest boyis in a foundry-shop and the lame one sells papers."

  "A mother and six children." Laine made some notes in a book and putit back in his pocket. "I'm going out. Have a cab here ateight-thirty. The things I bring back will be put in the room at theend of the hall. On Christmas Eve you are to buy what I've mentionedin this"--he handed him an envelope--"and with them take the bundlesin the room to the place you went to yesterday. You are not to knowwho sent them, and when you come back you are to forget you've been,and no one is to be told. You have a great habit of telling Dorotheathings. I'm understood, am I?"

  "Yes, sir. You is understood, I know about a left hand and a righthand. God knows I'll be glad to go again if it's to take someChristmas to them. That woman's face kinder hant me ever sence Iseen it. 'Twasn't mad or nothin', but plum beat out. I had to makea little egg-nog for my stomach when I got home. 'Tain't time foregg-nog, but a disturbance in the stomach--"

  "You're having a disturbance in your stomach too often. Get thatcab, will you, and tell them to hurry."

  Two hours later he was back. No doubt he had done foolishly, boughtunwisely; but there had been no time for indecision, and the womanwho waited on him had been a great help. As he was shown warmdresses and thick coats for the mother and little girls, suits andshoes and stockings for the boys, bedclothing, towels, soap, ribbons,and neckties, he had smiled at the absurdity of his opinion beingasked concerning things of which he was as ignorant as a blind baby;but with determination he kept on until the woman told him he hadgotten enough. With the toys he was more confident; and, rememberingClaudia's restrictions, he had exercised what he believed wasexcellent judgment and only bought what was probably appropriate.

  When the bed in the end room had been piled with his purchases, thedoor locked, and the key in Moses's pocket, Laine went into thelibrary, turned off its brilliant lights, and, leaving only the lampburning, closed the door, sat down in his high-back chair, andlighted a cigar. After the stir and glow of the store the silence ofthe room was oppressive, its emptiness chilled, and, unthinking, heput his hand down by the side of his chair and nipped his fingers ashe was wont to do when calling General. With an indrawn breath hedrew his hand back and put it in his pocket. His Christmas shoppingwas over. A very unexpected Christmas shopping it had been. In allthat city of millions there were few personal purchases to be madefor others. What had to be gotten Hope got. Not since the death ofhis mother had Christmas meant more than something to be dreaded andendured. And to Claudia it meant so much.

  Why had she come into his life? Why was hers the divine gift ofrecognition which dispensed with the formal development of friendshipand yielded, as a flower its fragrance, the warmth and gladness, thesurety and genuineness, that so long he had looked for. Apparentlyshe was as unconscious as Dorothea, and yet too many men had lovedher for her not to understand. Not by the subtlest sign had sheshown, however. Indifference or dislike would have been moreencouraging, but her cordial frankness had been that of unstirreddepths.

  Suppose she was engaged to another man? Was that any reason why heshould not tell her of his love, ask her to be his wife? Puritanicscruples such as his were beyond pardon. A sense of honor might gotoo far. Why didn't he find out if it were true what Dorothea hadtold him? God! To have had a vision, only to go through life indarkness!

  An hundred times in fancy he had heard the sweep of her skirts, thesound of her footsteps, the tones of her voice, and laughter gay andsweet and soft; an hundred times had seen the glad eyes grow grave,the forehead wrinkle in fine folds, the quick turn of her head; anhundred times had felt the touch of her hands; and he had never askedHope to bring her to his home, lest her spirit should not come again.

  The badinage of other days came to him, the days when women hadrather bothered. They would be amused, these women, did they knowhis surrender to the god unknown at that time--the god he hadsometimes smiled at because he had not known. Day after to-morrowshe was going home. He had not seen her since the afternoon they hadbeen shopping together. The man from Washington had claimed hertime, and he had stayed away. Who was this man? To ask Hope orChanning had been impossible. Dorothea would be delighted to tellhim. The instincts of her sex were well developed in Dorothea; andshe missed no chance of letting him know of Claudia's engagements, ofwhat she did, and where she went, and from whom her flowers came.Doubtless she would be delighted to tell him even more.

  He got up and began to walk the length and breadth of the room. Thesound of his footsteps was lost in the heavy rugs, and only theticking of the clock broke the stillness, and presently it struck thehour of midnight. He took out his watch and looked at it. "Tomorrowshe is going home," he said.