He had a way, whenever she came to a pause, of enticing her to go on. Sometimes he primed the conversation by repeating the last thing she had said; again, an apt word or two summed up the whole spirit of the matter encouragingly; or there would be just a composed waiting for her to resume.
Not that he had any difficulty in finding something to say. He evidently liked to hear her talk, and so he rather deferred to her. Whether it was that she now had a feeling of this, or that there was something in the influence of his presence, his voice and manner, which removed all constraint, Janet had not the least difficulty in talking. She told him how the teacher at the school "boarded round," what an unnecessary number of classes Miss Porter had for so small a number of pupils,although it was difficult to remedy the matter by "setting back" certain children, because their proud mothers would object to such a leveling,and how the Blodgett children, four of them, all came to school on the back of one buckskin pony, the youngest having to hold on tight to keep from slipping off at the tail. "Buckskin,"; it seemed, had won quite a place in Janet's affections, although he was the worst behaved horse that came to school. He used to graze in the yard till school was out,the other horses being staked out on the prairie,and he had become so familiar that he would sometimes go so far as to put his head in at the window in hope of being fed. And Janet could not see, considering that Texas horses were used to being staked out, what reason there had been for building a fence around a school that stood out on open prairie, unless it was, perchance, that the Texans thought they ought to have a corral to herd the children in.
While she was thus going on, there came from the corral a bleat in the awe-inspiring tone of Fa, and this was followed by a succession of bleats which reminded her of nothing so much as a child getting its hands on the keyboard of an organ. Steve, as if suddenly admonished of something, rose to his feet, excused himself, and disappeared in the direction of the corral.
With the place before her temporarily vacant, and unable to see out of her circle of light except by looking upward, Janet instinctively lifted her eyes to the scene above. Thousands and thousands of stars made the night big and beautiful. They were so clear and so lively, as if they took joy in their shining. A mild southern breeze gave the night motion and perfume. Janet took a deep breath which was hardly a sigh; it was rather a big drink of air and the final suspiration of all her worries. As she took in more deeply the constellated heavens and the free fresh spirit of the roaming air, she began to feel that she would rather like to be a sheep-herder herself. From looking at so many, her mind turned back to her selected star, the "captain jewel" of them all, and her eye sought its whereabouts again. In others she could see tremulous tinges of red and blue; but this seemed to be the pure spirit of light. Unconsciously she had put her arm around the dog, as if to hold on to this earth, and Shep, whose affection had been steadily growing, nudged up closer and gave her a sense of warm companionship.
When Steve returned from his mysterious errand, he looked at her a moment and then fetched an armful of wood. The fire, to serve better the purposes of cooking, had been allowed to burn down to coals, and the smouldering embers now gave so little light that the face and figure of his guest were losing themselves in obscurity. As this state of affairs hardly suited him, he piled on the dry mesquite brush and fanned it with his hat into leaping flames. When Janet was lit up to his satisfaction, he put down the hat and resumed his earthen lounge.
As he stretched himself out before her, lithe-limbed and big-chested, the atmosphere of that firelit place seemed filled with a sense of safety. His deliberate manner of speech, quite different from the slowness of a drawl, was the natural voice of that big starry world so generous of time. Occasionally he made a remark which ought to have been flattery, but which, coming from him, was so quiet and true that one might float on it to topics of unknown depth. He was so evidently interested in everything she said, and his attention was so single-minded and sincere, that Janet was soon chatting again upon the subject of her recent circumnavigation of the prairie, which, as she now saw it in the light of the present, seemed more and more a sea of flowersas the Past always does. Indeed, the whole recent course of her experience was such a noveltythe trip to Texas was her first real adventure in the worldthat she saw things with the new vision of a traveler; and the present situation, turning out so happily, put the cap-sheaf on that dream which is truly Life. Janet, recently delivered from all danger, and yet sitting right in the middle of her adventures, had a double advantage; she was living in the present as well as the past, breathing the sweetness of the air, looking up at the big flock of stars and seeing in them all nothing less than the divine shepherding.
"But, of all the wonderful things I ever saw," she exclaimed. "Why, it was worth walking all day to see it."
"What was it?" he asked.
"Sensitive plants. And when I came they all lowered their branches to their sides likewell, slowly, like this"
She held her right arm out straight and lowered it slowly and steadily to her side. And a most graceful and shapely arm it was.
"I would n't have been so much surprised," she continued, "to just see leaves fold together, like clover. You know clover leaves all shut up at night and go to sleep. But these plants were quite large and they actually moved. And of course the leaves shut together, too; they were long like little tender locust leaves, and each one folded itself right in the middle."
She placed her hands edge to edge and closed them together to show him.
"But, you know, while they were doing that, they were folding back against their long stems, and the stems were folding back against the branches, and the straight branches were all folding downwards against the main stalk. What I mean is that everything worked together, like this"
Janet extended both arms with her fingers widely spread; then, as her arms gradually lowered, her fingers closed together.
"It was something like that," she added, "but not exactly; it was ten times as muchsomething like the ribs of an umbrella going down all around, with stems and rows of locust leaves all along them closing together. And every little leaf was like a rabbit laying back its ears."
"Yes; I know what you mean," said Steve. "They are a kind of mimosa. Some people call them that."
"Well," said Janet, "I sat and watched one. I just touched it with a hatpin and it did that. A person would almost think it had intelligence. And after a whilewhen it thought I was gone, I supposeit began to open its leaves and stems and put its arms out again."
She raised her arms slowly, spreading her fingers. Steve was a most attentive listener and spectator. He rather wished there were other plants to imitate.
"But that wasn't really what I started to tell about," she went on. "As I was walking along I came to awell, you might say a whole crowd of them. There was quite a growth like a patch of ferns. I had n't got to them yet, or even taken particular notice of them,I must have been ten or twelve feet away,when they all began to close up. I stopped perfectly still; and pretty soon the green leaves were gone and the place was all changed. Now, how do you suppose those plants ever knew I was coming? I would give anything to know how such things can be."
"How much would you give?" inquired Steve.
For a moment, the spirit of this question hung in the balance. He felt the spell of her inquiring eyes as her hand dropped idly on Shep's back.
"Whydo you know?" she asked doubtfully.
"I think I do," he answered. "You see, that kind of plants have very long roots; they run away out. You stepped on their toes."
"Well, I declare," said Janet, enthusiastic again. "And what a way of saying it."
"It looks simple enough, does n't it?" he remarked.
"And I never thought of it. Why, it was enough to make a person superstitious. Isn't nature wonderful!"
As she took up the coffee, too long neglected, Steve got an imaginary taste of it, and finding it neither hot nor cold, he arose and took her cup. Having refilled it and offer
ed her more of the beans, which to his surprise and gratification she accepted, he made another trip to the corral. In a little while he returned and promptly took his place.
"You were saying this morning," he began, "that you were going to the county-seat. Were you sure that you could find your way all alone?"
"Oh, yes," answered Janet. "I was there before. You see, I took an examination a couple of months ago, when I first came."
"Oh; that's it. What sort of a certificate did that littleexaminergive you?"
There was something in the sound of this question which conveyed to her that he regarded her standing in an examination largely as a matter of luck. Janet felt an instant approval of this philosophy of the matter.
"Third-class," she answered.
"Well, that's better than fourth-class," he remarked.
"Ohbut there is no fourth-class," exclaimed Janet.
Her eyes widened as she waited to hear what his reply to this might be.
He entirely ignored the matter.
"That examiner is a kind of a cocky little rooster, is n't he?" he commented.
"Did you ever have any trouble with him?" inquired Janet.
"Me!" He was evidently surprised that she should think so. "Why, no. I don't know him. I just saw him a few times. He is a sort of a dried-up little party. You know I get up to the court-house once in a while to have a brand registered or something like that."
"He is rather importantfor his size," mused Janet. "And very particular about his looks."
"They have a man teacher at a school near my house," remarked Steve, in no seeming connection.
"I suppose he has a first-class certificate," said Janet. "Until lately it was easy to get a school in Texas. But the country school boards rate you by your certificate more and more. This time I am going to get first-class, or at least second. If I don't I 'll have to go back North."
"What kind of questions does that fellow ask when he examines people?" Steve inquired.
"Wellfor instance'Give the source and course of the Orizaba.'"
"Huh!" remarked Steve.
"To tell the truth," said Janet, "I would n't have got even third-class if it had n't been for the way I pulled through in geography."
"Are you good in geography?"
"Hardly. I just passed. He asked a great many questions about climate, and every time he asked that I wrote that it was salubrious. You see," she explained, with a sly little air, "in the children's geographies the climate of a country is nearly always salubrious. So I took a chance on every country. That brought my average up."
"Good for you," exclaimed Steve. "Nothing like beating them at their own game. Won't you have some more coffee?"
"No, thank you," said Janet. "Two cups is really more than I ought to drink at night."
Having risen in expectation of getting the coffee, he gave the fire another armful of mesquite.
"You take a good deal of notice of flowers, don't you!" he said, sitting down again.
"A person could hardly help it in Texas. Lilies and trumpet-flowers and lobelias and asters and dahlias and wax-plantsthey all grow wild here. And in spring it is just wonderful. There is scarcely room for grass."
"Texas won't be like that long, if it keeps on."
"No?"
"These plants all grow from seed. And when the land is heavily grazed they don't have a chance to plant themselves. They becomewhat do you call itextinguished?"
"Extinct," prompted Janet.
"On my ranch, about twelve miles from here, it is n't what it used to be in springtime. We've got it pretty heavily stocked; we 're working it over into shorthorn. This place that we're on now has a fence all around it; the country is becoming crowded. And they are breaking farms all the time, too. It won't last long."
"Won't that be a shame!" said Janet. "People spoil everything, don't they? I am glad I came down here just to see the Texas prairie in spring. Even if I do have to go back again. Just look at that!"
She reached out, and, grasping a handful, she bent the still rooted bouquet so that the light shone full upon its countenance.
"How did you come to know the names of them all?" he asked.
"Why, we grow them in gardens up North. I know their names in that way. They are old acquaintances."
"Oh, that's it. Well, it is n't hard to grow them here. Us fellows out on the prairie make all our flower-beds round."
Janet paused.
"Oh!" she exclaimed. "You mean the horizon. Is n't that an idea! I am going to tell that to Ruth Ferguson the first time I write."
Steve made no reply. Janet gave her attention for a space to the beans. Then, suddenly reminded, she put down her fork.
"Mr. Brown! If you were teaching just ten or twelve children, would n't it strike you as rather foolish to call the roll every morning? You know there were only fourteen pupils in the school where I was substituting; so of course I got acquainted with them all right away. Well, one morning when the weather was bad there were only six present; so when the hour came I just began to teach. But a little boy who is in the first reader held up his hand and told me I had to call the roll first. I could hardly keep from smiling. As if I could n't see the six that were there. Then I made inquiry and I found that Miss Porter called the roll when there were only four there. Does n't it seem funny for a person to go through a formality like that just becausewell, just because?"
"That's because you 've got sense," said Steve.
She dropped her eyes and ate. When this remark had had time to pass over, Janet's sociable spirit, never self-conscious for long, began to unfold its leaves and raise its stems and lift up its branches again.
In this juncture, the dog profited. Shep had been giving her such unremitting attention, his wistful brown eyes following each forkful as it went from plate to mouth, that Janet's consciousness of her selfish situation kept bearing in upon her till now every bean carried reproach with it. Thinking to convince him that it was only beans, and not desirable, she put him down a forkful from her own too generous allowance. She was surprised at the suddenness with which it disappeared. Beans were his staff of life also, a discovery which made her smile. And as one good turn deserves anotherat least Shep seemed to think soshe was expected to do it again; thus supper, with his assistance, was soon over. And now Janet, with nothing whatever to do, sat face to face with her situation.
"Have you got a dishpan?" she inquired.
"Oh, you don't need to mind that. I have n't got anything you are used to. I just take them down to the stream and swab them off with a bunch of dry grass."
"Oh!" remarked Janet.
She felt, however, that it would be easier to be doing something. She gathered things together and made general unrest among the dishes. Mr. Brown, instead of being stirred by this operation of cleaning up, stretched himself out more contentedly, moved up a little closer, and took still fuller possession of her presence; and as he did so he poked up the fire and struck her a light on a new topic. But this time the train of conversation did not catch. Janet was thinking. And like most of us she could not talk well while thinking.
Mr. Brown seemed quite contented, then, with silence and peace. Evidently he too was thinking. After a little time he sat up and reached into an inside pocket. He drew forth a large leather wallet which, upon being opened, disclosed two compartments well filled with bank-notes and documentary-looking papers. There was another compartment with a flap on it and a separate fastening, opening which he took out an object wrapped in tissue paper. Having carefully unwrapped it, he folded the paper again and placed it where it would not blow away.
"That's my mother's picture," he said, handing it over formally to his guest.
Janet received it rather vaguely and sat looking at it, saying nothing.
"She died just last winter," he added, in his usual deliberate way.
"Oh, did she?"
What else to say, she hardly knew. Turning it to the light she studied it more closely and noted each resembl
ance to his own features, looking up at him in an impersonal sort of way and with a soberness of countenance which was a reflection of his own entirely serious mood.
"She had a very kind-looking face," she said.
To this there was no reply. Janet, about to hand it back, was momentarily in doubt as to how long a proper respect should prompt her to retain it; this, however, settled itself when she observed that he had ready to offer her a long newspaper clipping.
"I had the editor put some of that in myself," he said, reaching the long ribbon of paper over to her.
It was an obituary of Mrs. Stephen P. Brown, who passed to "the realms beyond" on the eighteenth of November. With this Janet found no difficulty.
"But," he added suddenly as it occurred to him, "I did n't have him print that part at the bottom. He just put that in himself. I mean that stuff about me."
Janet at once turned her attention to the bottom. He sat silently with the wallet in hand, his countenance a shade more solemn than usual. In the midst of this waiting there came a wail from the corral and he left suddenly upon one of his unexplained errands, this time without excusing himself. He got back while Janet was still engaged upon the article. When she looked up he was standing beside the fire looking down at her. There was something new in his face, a look half lugubrious, semi-humorous, apologetic.
"We've got another lamb," he announced.
"Oh!another little lamb?" she exclaimed.
"There are only three so far. Three lambs and two mothers. It has n't really got started yet, but I 'm afraid it will. My herder ought to have got back yesterday and brought help along."
"Then you have a great deal to do?" queried Janet.
"Yes; after it once gets really started. Then it never rains but it pours. I have been hoping it would hold off a day or two longer; but you can't tell exactly."
The Wrong Woman Page 8
