A Day of Fate

by Edward Payson Roe

  CHAPTER XV

  "DON'T THINK OF ME"

  Mrs. Yocomb appeared at supper, serene and cheerful; but she was palerthan usual, and she still looked like one who had but just descendedfrom a lofty spiritual height. No reference whatever was made to themorning. Mrs. Yocomb no longer spoke on religious themes directly, butshe seemed to me the Gospel embodied, as with natural kindly grace shepresided at her home table. Her husband beamed on her, and looked as ifhis cup was overflowing. Reuben's frank, boyish eyes often turnedtoward her in their simple devotion, while Zillah, who sat next to her,had many a whispered confidence to give. Adah's accent was gentle andher manner thoughtful. Miss Warren looked at her from time to time witha strange wistfulness--looked as if the matron possessed a serenity andpeace that she coveted.

  "Emily," said Mr. Yocomb, "thee doesn't think music's wicked, doesthee?"

  "No, sir, nor do you either."

  "What does thee think of that, mother?"

  "I think Emily converted thee over to her side before she had been heretwo days."

  "Thee's winked very hard at my apostasy, mother. I'm inclined to thinkthee was converted too, on the third or fourth day, if thee'd own up."

  "No," said Mrs. Yocomb, with a smile at her favorite, "Emily won myheart on the first day, and I accepted piano and all."

  "Why, Mrs. Yocomb!" I exclaimed--for I could not forego the chance tovindicate myself--"I never considered you a precipitate, ill-balancedperson."

  Miss Warren's cheeks were scarlet, and I saw that she understood mewell. I think Mrs. Yocomb guessed my meaning, too, for her smile was alittle peculiar as she remarked demurely, "Women are different frommen: they know almost immediately whether they like a person or not. Iliked thee in half a day."

  "You like sinners on principle, Mrs. Yocomb. I think it was my generaldepravity and heathenism that won your regard."

  "No, as a woman I liked thee. Thee isn't as bad as thee seems."

  "Mr. Yocomb, I hope you don't object to this, for I must assure youmost emphatically that I don't."

  "Mother's welcome to love thee all she pleases," said the oldgentleman, laughing. "Indeed, I think I egg her on to it."

  "Good friends," said Miss Warren, with her old mirthful look, "you'llturn Mr. Morton's head; you should be more considerate."

  "I am indeed bewildered. Miss Warren's keen eyes have detected my weakpoint."

  "A man with so stout a heart," Mr. Hearn began, "could well afford--"and then he hesitated.

  "To be weak-headed," I said, finishing his sentence. "I fear you aremistaken, sir. I can't afford it at all."

  "Thee was clear-headed enough to get around mother in half an hour,"said the old gentleman again, laughing heartily. "It took me severalmonths."

  "Thee was a little blind, father. I wasn't going to let thee see howmuch I thought of thee till I had kept thee waiting a proper time."

  "That's rich!" I cried, and I laughed as I had not since my illness."How long is a proper time, Mrs. Yocomb? I remember being once toldthat a woman was a mystery that a man could never solve. I fear it'strue."

  "Who told you that?" asked Mr. Hearn; for I think he noticed my swiftglance at Miss Warren, who looked a little conscious.

  "As I think of it, I may have read it in a newspaper," I said demurely.

  "I'm not flattered by your poor memory, Mr. Morton," remarked MissWarren quietly. "I told you that myself when you were so mystified bymy fearlessness of Dapple and my fear of the cow."

  "I've learned that my memory is sadly treacherous, Miss Warren."

  "A man who is treacherous only in memory may well be taken as a model,"remarked Mr. Hearn benignly.

  "Would you say that of one who forgot to pay you his debts?"

  "What do you owe me, Mr. Morton?"

  "I'm sure I don't know. Good-will, I suppose Mrs. Yocomb would suggest."

  "Well, sir, I feel that I owe you a great deal; perhaps more than Irealize, as I recall your promptness on that memorable night of thestorm."

  "I was prompt--I'll admit that," I said grimly, looking at the ceiling.

  "Mr. Yocomb, how long would it have taken the house to burn up if thefire had not been extinguished?" Mr. Hearn asked.

  "The interior," replied Mr. Yocomb very gravely, "would all have beenin flames in a very few moments, for it's old and dry."

  "Ugh!" exclaimed Adah, shudderingly. "Richard--"

  I put my finger on my lips. "Miss Adah," I interrupted, "I'd rather bestruck by lightning than hear any more about that night."

  "Yes," said Miss Warren desperately, "I wish I could forget that nightforever."

  "I never wish to forget the expression on your face, Miss Warren, whenwe knew Zillah was alive. If that didn't please God, nothing in thisworld ever did."

  "Oh, hush!" she cried.

  "Emily, I think you cannot have told me all that happened."

  "I can't think of it any more," she said; and her face was full oftrouble. "I certainly don't know, and have never thought how I looked."

  "Mr. Morton seems to have been cool enough to have been veryobservant," said the banker keenly.

  "I was wet enough to be cool, sir. Miss Warren said I was not fit to beseen, and the doctor bundled me out of the room, fearing I wouldfrighten Zillah into hysterics. Hey, Zillah! what do you think of that?"

  "I think the doctor was silly. I wouldn't be afraid of thee any morethan of Emily."

  "Please let us talk and think of something else," Miss Warren pleaded.

  "I don't want to forget what I owe to Richard," said Reuben a littleindignantly. I trod on his foot under the table. "Thee needn't try tostop me, Richard Morton," continued the boy passionately. "I couldn'thave got mother out alone, and I'd never left her. Where would we be,Emily Warren, if it hadn't been for Richard?"

  "In heaven," I said, laughing, for I was determined to prevent a scene.

  "Well, I hope so," Reuben muttered; "but I don't mind being in mother'sdining-room."

  Even Mrs. Yocomb's gravity gave way at this speech.

  As we rose from the table, Zillah asked innocently:

  "Emily, is thee crying or laughing?"

  "I hardly know myself," she faltered, and went hastily to her room; butshe soon came down again, looking very resolute.

  "Emily," said Mr. Yocomb, "since thee and mother doesn't think music'swicked, I have a wonderful desire to hear thee sing again, 'Tell me theOld, Old Story,' as thee did on the night of the storm."

  In spite of her brave eyes and braver will, her lip trembled.

  I was cruel enough to add, "And I would be glad to listen to theTwelfth Nocturne once more."

  For some reason she gave me a swift glance full of reproach.

  "I will listen to anything," I said quickly.

  Mr. Hearn looked a little like a man who feared that there might besubterranean fires beneath his feet.

  "I will not promise more than to be chorister to-night," she said,sitting down to the piano with her back toward us. "Let us havefamiliar hymns that all can sing. Miss Adah has a sweet voice, and Mr.Morton, no doubt, is hiding his talent in a napkin. There's a book foryou, sir. I'm sorry it doesn't contain the music."

  "It doesn't matter," I said; "I'm equally familiar with Choctaw."

  "Adela and Zillah, you come and stand by me. Your little voices arelike the birds'."

  We all gathered in the old parlor, and spent an hour that I shall neverforget. I had a tolerable tenor, and an ear made fairly correct byhearing much music. Mr. Hearn did not sing, but he seemingly enteredinto the spirit of the occasion. Before very long Miss Warren and Iwere singing some things together. Mr. Hearn no doubt compared ourefforts unfavorably with what he had heard in the city, but the simplepeople of the farmhouse were much pleased, and repeatedly asked us tocontinue. As I was leaning over Miss Warren's shoulder, finding a placein the hymn-book on the stand, she breathed softly:

  "Have you told them you are going to-morrow?"

  "No," I replied.

  "Can you l
eave such friends?"

  "Yes."

  "You ought not. It would hurt them cruelly;" and she made some runs onthe piano to hide her words.

  "If _you_ say I ought not to go, I'll stay--Ah, this is the one I waslooking for," I said, in a matter-of-fact tone; but she played themusic with some strange slips and errors; her hands were nervous andtrembling, and never was the frightened look that I had seen beforemore distinctly visible.

  After we had sung a stanza or two she rose and said, "I think I'mgetting a little tired, and the room seems warm. Wouldn't you like totake a walk?" she asked Mr. Hearn, coming over to his side.

  He arose with alacrity, and they passed out together. I did not see heragain that night.

  The next morning, finding me alone for a moment, she approached,hesitatingly, and said:

  "I don't think I ought to judge for you."

  "Do you wish me to go?" I asked, sadly, interpreting her thought.

  She became very pale, and turned away as she replied, "Perhaps you hadbetter. I think you would rather go."

  "No, I'd rather stay; but I'll do as you wish."

  She did not reply, and went quickly to her piano.

  I turned and entered the dining-room where Mrs. Yocomb and Adah wereclearing away the breakfast. Mr. Yocomb was writing in his littleoffice adjoining.

  "I think it is time I said good-by and went back to New York."

  In the outcry that followed, Miss Warren's piano became silent.

  "Richard Morton!" Mrs. Yocomb began almost indignantly, "if thee hasn'tany regard for thyself, thee should have some for thy friends. Theeisn't fit to leave home, and this is thy home now. Thee doesn't callthy hot rooms in New York home, so I don't see as thee has got anyother. Just so sure as thee goes back to New York now, thee'll be sickagain. I won't hear to it. Thee's just beginning to improve a little."

  Adah looked at me through reproachful tears, but she did not sayanything. Mr. Yocomb dropped his pen and came out, looking quiteexcited:

  "I'll send for Doctor Bates and have him lay his commands on thee," hesaid. "I won't take thee to the depot, and thee isn't able to walk halfway there. Here, Emily, come and talk reason to this crazy man. He sayshe's going back to New York. He ought to be put in a strait-jacket.Doesn't thee think so?"

  Her laugh was anything but simple and natural.

  As she said "I do indeed," Mr. Hearn had joined her.

  "What would thee do in such an extreme case of mental disorder?"

  "Treat him as they did in the good old times: get a chain and lock himup on bread and water."

  "Would thee then enjoy thy dinner?"

  "That wouldn't matter if he were cured."

  "I think Mr. Morton would prefer hot New York to the remedies thatEmily prescribes," said Mr. Hearn, with his smiling face full ofvigilance.

  "Richard," said Mrs. Yocomb, putting both her hands on my arm, "Ishould feel more hurt than I can tell thee if thee leaves us now."

  "Why, Mrs. Yocomb! I didn't think you would care so much."

  "Then thee's very blind, Richard. I didn't think thee'd say that."

  "You cut deep now; suppose I must go?"

  "Why must thee go, just as thee is beginning to gain? Thee is as paleas a ghost this minute, and thee doesn't weigh much more than half asmuch as I do. Still, we don't want to put an unwelcome constraint onthee."

  I took her hand in both of mine as I said earnestly, "God forbid that Ishould ever escape from any constraint that you put upon me. Well, Iwon't go to-day, and I'll see what word my mail brings me." And I wentup to my room, not trusting myself to glance at the real controller ofmy action, but hoping that something would occur which would make mycourse clear. As I came out of my room to go down to dinner, MissWarren intercepted me, saying eagerly:

  "Mr. Morton, don't go. If you should be ill again in New York, as Mrs.Yocomb says--"

  "I won't be ill again."

  "Please don't go," she entreated. "I--I shouldn't have said what I did.You _would_ be ill; Mrs. Yocomb would never forgive me."

  "Miss Warren, I will do what you wish."

  "I wish what is best for you--only that."

  "I fear I cloud your happiness. You are too kind-hearted."

  She smiled a little bitterly. "Please stay--don't think of me."

  "Again, I repeat, you are too kind-hearted. Never imagine that I can behappy if you are not;" and I looked at her keenly, but she turned awayinstantly, saying:

  "Well, then, I'll be very happy, and will test you," and she returnedto her room.

  "Mrs. Yocomb," I said quietly at the dinner-table, "I've written to theoffice saying that my friends do not think I'm well enough to returnyet, and asking to have my leave extended."

  She beamed upon me as she replied:

  "Now thee's sensible."

  "For once," I added.

  "I expect to see thee clothed and in thy right mind yet," she said,with a little reassuring nod.

  "Your hopeful disposition is contagious," I replied, laughing.

  "I'd like to see thee get to the depot till we're ready to let theego," said Reuben, emphatically.

  "Yes," added Mr. Yocomb, with his genuine laugh, "Reuben and I are inleague against thee."

  "You look like two dark, muttering conspirators," I responded.

  "And to think thee was going away without asking me!" Zillah put in,shaking her bright curls at me.

  "Well, you all have made this home to me, true enough. The best part ofme will be left here when I do go."

  At these words Adah gave me a shy, blushing smile.

  "Mr. Morton, will you please pass me the vinegar?" said Miss Warren, inthe most matter-of-fact tone.

  "Wouldn't you prefer the sugar?" I asked.

  "No; I much prefer the vinegar."

  Mr. Hearn also smiled approvingly.

  "Don't be too sure of your prey," I said, mentally. "If she's not yoursat heart--which I doubt more than ever--you shall never have her." Butshe puzzled me for a day or two. If she were not happy she simulatedhappiness, and made my poor acting a flimsy pretence in contrast. Sheand the banker took long rides together, and she was always exceedinglycheerful on her return--a little too much so, I tried to think. Sheignored the past as completely as possible, and while her manner waskind to me she had regained her old-time delicate brusqueness, andrarely lost a chance to give me a friendly fillip. Indeed I had neverknown her to be so brilliant, and her spirits seemed unflagging. Mr.Yocomb was delighted and in his large appetite for fun applauded andjoined in every phase of our home gayety. There was too much hilarityfor me, and my hope failed steadily.

  "Now that her conscience is clear in regard to me--now that I haveremained in the country, and am getting well--her spirits have come upwith a bound," I reasoned moodily. I began to resume my old tactics ofkeeping out of the way and of taking long rambles; but I tried to becheerfulness itself in her presence.

  On Wednesday Miss Warren came down to breakfast in a breezy, airy way,and, scarcely speaking to me as I stood in the doorway, she flittedout, and was soon romping with Zillah and Adela. As she returned,flushed and panting, I said, with a smile:

  "You are indeed happy. I congratulate you. I believe I've never had thehonor of doing that yet."

  "But you said that you would be happy also?"

  "Am I not?"

  "No."

  "Well, it doesn't matter since you are."

  "Oh, then, I'm no longer kind-hearted. You take Reuben's view, that I'ma heartless monster. He scarcely speaks to me any more. You think Ipropose to be happy now under all circumstances."

  "I wish you would be; I hope you may be. What's the use of my acting mypoor little farce any longer? I don't deceive you a mite. But I'm notgoing to mope and pine, Miss Warren. Don't think of me so poorly asthat. I'm not the first man who has had to face this thing. I'm goingback to work, and I am going next Monday, surely."

  "I've no doubt of it," she said, with sudden bitterness, "and you'llget over it bravely, very bravely;" and sh
e started off toward thebarn, where Reuben was exercising Dapple, holding him with a long rope.The horse seemed wild with life and spirit, and did I not know that thebeautiful creature had not a vicious trait I should have feared for theboy. Just at this moment, Dapple in his play slipped off his headstalland was soon careering around the dooryard in the mad glee of freedom.In vain Reuben tried to catch him; for the capricious beast would allowhim to come almost within grasp, and then would bound away. Miss Warrenstood under a tree laughing till the boy was hot and angry. Then shecried:

  "I'll catch him for you, Reuben."

  I uttered a loud shout of alarm as she darted out before the gallopinghorse and threw up her arms.

  Dapple stopped instantly; in another second she had her arm around hisarched neck and was stroking his quivering nostrils. Her poise was fullof grace and power; her eyes were shining with excitement and triumph,and, to make her mastery seem more complete, she leaned her faceagainst his nose.

  Dapple looked down at her in a sort of mild wonder, and was as meek asa lamb.

  "There, Reuben, come and take him," she said to the boy, who stared ather with his mouth open.

  "Emily Warren, I don't know what to make of thee," he exclaimed.

  Never before had I so felt my unutterable loss, and I said to heralmost savagely, in a low tone, as she approached:

  "Is that the means you take to cure me--doing the bravest thing I eversaw a woman do, and looking like a goddess? I was an unspeakable foolfor staying."

  Her head drooped, and she walked dejectedly toward the house, notseeming to think of or care for the exclamations and expostulationswhich greeted her.

  "Why, Emily, were you mad?" cried Mr. Hearn above the rest; and nowthat the careering horse was being led away he hastened down to meether.

  "No, I'm tired, and want a cup of coffee," I heard her say, and then Ifollowed Reuben to the barn.

  "She's cut me out with Dapple," said the boy, with a crestfallen air.

  Already I repented of my harshness, into which I had been led by thesharpest stress of feeling, and was eager to make amends. Since thenight of the storm honest Reuben had given me his unwavering loyalty.Still less than Adah was he inclined or able to look beneath thesurface of things, and he had gained the impression from Miss Warren'swords that she was inclined to make light of their danger on thatoccasion, and to laugh at me generally. In his sturdy championship inmy behalf he had been growing cold and brusque toward one whom he nowassociated with the wealthy middle-aged banker, and city stylegenerally. Reuben was a genuine country lad, and was instinctivelyhostile to Fifth Avenue. While Mr. Hearn was polite to his father andmother, he quite naturally laid more stress on their business relationsthan on those of friendship, and was not slow in asking for what hewanted, and his luxurious tastes led him to require a good deal. Reubenhad seen his mother worried and his father inconvenienced not a little.They made no complaint, and had no cause for any, for the banker paidhis way liberally. But the boy had not reached the age when thefinancial phase of the question was appreciated, and his prejudice wasnot unnatural, for unconsciously, especially at first, Mr. Hearn hadtreated them all as inferiors. He now was learning to know them better,however. There was nothing plebeian in Adah's beauty, and he would havebeen untrue to himself had he not admired her very greatly.

  It was my wish to lead the boy to overcome his prejudice against MissWarren, so I said:

  "You are mistaken, Reuben; Dapple is just as fond of you as ever. Itwas only playfulness that made him cut up so; but, Reuben, Dapple is avery sensible horse, and when he saw a girl that was brave enough tostand right out before him when it seemed that he must run over her, herespected and liked such a girl at once. It was the bravest thing Iever saw. Any other horse would have trampled on her, but Dapple hasthe nature of a gentleman. So have you, Reuben, and I know you will goand speak handsomely to her. I know you will speak to her as Dapplewould could he speak. By Jove! it was splendid, and you are man enoughto know it was."

  "Yes, Richard, it was. I know that as well as thee. There isn't a girlin the county that would have dared to do it, and very few men. And tothink she's a city girl! To tell the truth, Emily Warren is all thetime making game of thee, and that's why I'm mad at her."

  "I don't think you understand her. I don't mind it, because she nevermeans anything ill-natured; and then she loves your mother almost asmuch as you do. I give you my word, Reuben, Miss Warren and I are thebest of friends, and you need not feel as you do, because I don't."

  "Oh, well, if thee puts it that way, I'll treat her different. I tellthee what it is, Richard, I'm one that sticks to my friends throughthick and thin."

  "Well, you can't do anything so friendly to me as to make everythingpleasant for Miss Warren. How is her favorite, Old Plod?" I asked,following him into the barn.

  "Old Plod be hanged! She hasn't been near him in two weeks."

  "What!" I exclaimed exultantly.

  "What's the matter with thee, Richard? Thee and Emily are both queer. Ican't make you out."

  "Well, Reuben, we mean well; you mustn't expect too much of people."