Rose of Old Harpeth

by Maria Thompson Daviess

  CHAPTER IV

  MOONLIGHT AND APPLE-BLOW

  "I hope you feel easy in your mind, child, now you've put this wholegarden to bed and tucked 'em under cover, heads and all," said UncleTucker, as he spread the last bit of old sacking down over the end ofthe row of little sprouting bean vines. "When I look at the garden I'mhalf skeered to go in the house to bed for fear I haven't got a quiltto my joints."

  "Now, honey sweet, you know better than that," answered Rose Mary asshe rose from weighting down the end of a frilled white petticoat witha huge clod of earth and stretched it so as to cover quite two yardsof the green shoots. "I haven't taken a thing of yours but two shirtsand one of your last summer seersucker coats. I'm going to mend thesplit up the back in it for the wash Monday. Aunt Amandy lent me twoaprons and a sack and a petticoat for the peony bushes, and Aunt Vineygave me this shawl and three chemises that cover all the pinks. I'vetaken all the tablecloths for the early peas, and Stonie's shirts,each one of them, have covered a whole lot of the poet's narcissus.All the rest of the things are my own clothes, and I've still got aclean dress for to-morrow. If I can just cover everything to-night, Iwon't be afraid of the frost any more. You don't want all the lovelylittle green things to die, do you, and not have any snaps or peas orpeonies at all?"

  "Oh, fly-away!" answered Uncle Tucker as he tucked in the last end ofa nondescript frill over a group of tiny cabbage plants, "there's noteven a smack of frost in the air! It's all in your mind."

  "Well, a mind ought to be sensitive about covering up its friends fromfrost hurts," answered Rose Mary propitiatingly as she took asatisfied survey of the bedded garden, which looked like the scene ofa disorganized washday. "Thank you, Uncle Tucker, for helping me--keepoff the frost from my dreams, anyway. Don't you think--"

  "Well, howdy, folks!" came a cheerfully interruptive hail from acrossthe brick wall that separated the garden from the cinder walk that layalong Providence Road, which ran as the only street throughSweetbriar, and Caleb Rucker's long face presented itself framed in awreath of budding rose briars that topped the wall in their springgrowth. "Tenting up the garden sass ag'in, Miss Rose Mary?"

  "No, we're jest giving all the household duds a mooning instead of asunning, Cal," answered Uncle Tucker with a chuckle as he came over tothe wall beside the visitor. "What's the word along the Road?"

  "Gid Newsome have sent the news as he'll be here Sad'ay night to layoff and plow up this here dram or no-dram question for Sweetbriarvoters, so as to tote our will up to the state house for us nextelection. As a state senator, we can depend on Gid to expend some andhave notice taken of this district, if for nothing but his corn-silkvoice and white weskit. It must take no less'n a pound of taller aweek to keep them shoes and top hat of his'n so slick. I should jedgehis courting to be kinder like soft soap and molasses, Miss RoseMary." And Mr. Rucker's smile was of the saddest as he handed this bitof gentle banter over the wall to Rose Mary, who had come over tostand beside Uncle Tucker in the end of the long path.

  "It's wonderful how devoted Mr. Newsome is to all his friends,"answered Rose Mary with a blush. "He sent me three copies of theBolivar _Herald_ with the poem of yours he had them print last week,and I was just going over to take you and Mrs. Rucker one as soon as Igot the time to--"

  "Johnnie-jump-ups, Miss Rose Mary, don't you never do nothing likethat to me!" exclaimed Mr. Rucker with a very fire of desperationlighting his thin face. "If Mis' Rucker was to see one verse of thatthere poetry I would have to plow the whole creek-bottom corn-fieldjest to pacify her. I've done almost persuaded her to hire Bob Nickolsto do it with his two teams and young Bob, on account of a sciatticain my left side that plowing don't do no kind of good to. I have tookat least two bottles of her sasparilla and sorgum water and have letGranny put a plaster as big and loud-smelling as a mill swamp on myback jest to git that matter of the corn-field fixed up, and here youmost go and stir up the ruckus again with that poor little _Trees inthe Breeze_ poem that Gid took and had printed unbeknownst to me.Please, mam, burn them papers!"

  "Oh, I wouldn't tell her for the world if you don't want me to, Mr.Rucker!" exclaimed Rose Mary in distress. "But I am sure she would beproud of--"

  "No, it looks like women don't take to poetry for a husband; theyprefers the hefting of a hoe and plow handles. It's hard on Mis'Rucker that I ain't got no constitution to work with, and I feel itright to keep all my soul-squirmings and sech outen her sight. Theother night as I was a-putting Petie to bed, while she and Bob was atthe front gate a-trying to trade on that there plowing, a mighty sweetlittle verse come to me about

  "'The little shoes in mother's hand Nothing like 'em in the land,'

  and the tears was in my eyes so thick 'cause I didn't have nobody tosay 'em to that one dropped down on Pete and made him think I wasa-going to wash his face, and sech another ruckus as she had to comein to, as mad as hops! If I feel like it, I'm a-going to clean everyweed outen the garden for her next week to try and make up to herfor--"

  "Aw, Mr. Rucker, M-i-s-t-e-r Rucker, come home to get ready forsupper," came in a loud, jovial voice that carried across the streetlike the tocsin of a bass drum. The Rucker home sat in a clump ofsugar maples just opposite the Briars, and was square, solid andunadorned of vine or flower. A row of bright tin buckets hung alongthe picket fence that separated the yard from the store enclosure, andrain-barrels sat under the two front gutters with stolidpracticability, in contrast to the usual relegation of suchstore-houses of the rainfall to the back of the house and the plantingof ferns and water plants under the front sprouts, as was the customfrom the beginning of time in Sweetbriar. Mrs. Rucker in a clean printdress and with glossy and uncompromisingly smoothed hair stood at thenewly whitewashed front gate. "Send him on home, Rose Mary, orgrass'll grow in his tracks and yours, too, if he can hold you longenough," she added by way of badinage.

  "I'm a-coming, Sally, right on the minute," answered thepoet-by-stealth, and he hurried across the street with hungryalacrity. The poem-maker was tall and loose-jointed, and the breadthof his shoulders and long muscular limbs decidedly suggested successat the anvil or field furrow. He made a jocular pass at placing hisarm around the uncompromising waist-line of his portly wife, and whenwarded off by an only half-impatient shove he contented himself bywinding one of her white apron strings around one of his long fingersas they leaned together over the gate for further parley with theAlloways across the road.

  "When did you get back, Mrs. Rucker?" asked Rose Mary interestedly, asshe rested her arms on the wall and Uncle Tucker planted himselfbeside her, having brushed away one of the long briar shoots to makeroom for them both.

  "About two hours ago," answered Mrs. Rucker. "I found everybody infine shape up at Providence, and Mis' Mayberry sent Mr. Tucker a newquinzy medicine that Tom wrote back to her from New York just daybefore yesterday. I made a good trade in hogs with Mr. Hoover formyself and Bob Nickols, too. Mr. Petway had a half-barrel of flour inhis store he were willing to let go cheap, and I bought it for us andyou-all and the Poteets. Me and you can even up on that timothy seedwith the flour, Mr. Tucker, and I'm just a-going to give a measure tothe Poteets as a compliment to that new Poteet baby, which is theseventh mouth to feed on them eighty-five acres. I've set yeast forourn and your rolls for to-morrow, tell your Aunt Mandy, Rose Mary,and I brought that copy of the _Christian Advocate_ for your AuntViney that she lost last month. Mis' Mayberry don't keep hern, butspreads 'em around, so was glad to let me have this one. I asked aboutit before I had got my bonnet-strings untied. Yes, Cal, I'm a-goingon in to give you your supper, for I expect I'll find the children'sand Granny's stomicks and backbones growing together if I don't hurry.That's one thing Mr. Satterwhite said in his last illness, he neverhad had to wait--yes, I'm coming, Granny," and with the encomium ofthe late Mr. Satterwhite still unfinished Mrs. Rucker hurried up thefront path at the behest of a high, querulous old voice issuing fromthe front windows.

  "Well, there's no doubt about it, no finer woman lives alongProvid
ence Road than Sallie Rucker, Marthy Mayberry and Selina LueLovell down at the Bluff not excepted, to say nothing of Rose MaryAlloway standing right here in the midst of my own sweet potatovines," said Uncle Tucker reflectively as he glanced at the retreatingfigure of his sturdy neighbor, which was followed by that of the leanand hungry poet.

  "Yes, she's wonderful," answered Rose Mary enthusiastically,"but--but I wish she had just a little sympathy for--for poetry. If ahusband sprouts little spirit wings under his shoulders it's a kindthing for his wife not to pick them right out alive, isn't it? When Iget a husband--"

  "When you get a husband, Rose Mary, I hope he'll hump his shouldersover a plow-line the number of hours allotted for a man's work andthen fly poetry kites off times and only when the wind is right,"answered Uncle Tucker with a quizzical smile in his big eyes and aquirk at the corner of his mouth.

  "But I'm going always to admire the kites anyway, even if they don'tfly," answered Rose Mary with the teasing lift of her long lashes upat him. "Maybe just a woman's puff might start a man's kite sky highthat couldn't get off right without it. You can't tell."

  "Yes, child," answered Uncle Tucker as he looked into the dark eyeslevel with his own with a sudden tenderness, "and you never fail tostart off all kites in your neighborhood. When I took you as a bundleof nothing outen Brother John's arms nearly thirty years ago thisspring jest a perky encouraging little smile in your blue eyes startedmy kite that was a-trailing weary like, and it's sailed mostly by yourwind ever since--especially these last few years. Don't let the breezegive out on me yet, child."

  "It never will, old sweetie," answered Rose Mary as she took UncleTucker's lean old hand in hers and rubbed her cheek against the sleeveof his rough farm coat. "Is the interest of the mortgage ready forthis quarter?" she asked quietly in almost a whisper, as if afraid todisturb some listening ear with a private matter.

  "It lacks more than a hundred," answered Uncle Tucker in just as quieta voice, in which a note of pain sounded plainly. "And this is not thefirst time I have fallen behind with Newsome, either. The repairs onthe plows and the food chopper for the barn have cost a good deal,and the coal bill was large this winter. Sometimes, Rose Mary, I--I amafraid to look forward to the end. Maybe if I was younger it would bedifferent and I could pay the debt, but I am afraid--if it wasn't foryour aunts, looks like you and I could let it go and make our waysomewhere out in the world beyond the Ridge, but they are older thanus and we must keep their home as long as we can for 'em. Maybe in afew years--Newsome won't press me, I'm mighty sure. Do you think youcan help me hold on for 'em? I don't matter."

  "We'll never let it go, Uncle Tuck, never!" answered Rose Marypassionately as she pressed her cheek closer to his arm. "I don't knowwhy I know, but we are going to have it as long as they--and you,_you_ need it--and I'm going to die here myself," she added with alaughing sob as she shook two tears out of her lashes and looked up athim with adorning stars in her eyes.

  "It's as He wills, daughter," answered Uncle Tucker quietly as helaid a tender hand on the dark braids resting against his shoulder."It isn't wrong for us to go on keeping it if we can jest pay theinterest to our friend--pay it to the day. That is the only thing thattroubles me. We must not fall behind and--"

  "Oh, but honey-sweet, let me tell you, let me tell you!" exclaimedRose Mary with shining eyes, "I've got just lots of money, more thantwenty dollars, nearly twice more. I've saved it just in case we didneed it for this or--or--or any other thing," she added hastily, notwilling to disclose her tooth project even to Uncle Tucker'ssympathetic ear.

  Uncle Tucker's large eyes brightened with relief for a second and thenclouded with a mist of tears.

  "What were you saving it for, child?" he asked with a quaver in hissweet old voice, and his hand clasped hers more closely. "You don'tever have what pretty women like you want and need, and that's whatgrinds down on me most hardest of all. You are young and--and mightybeautiful, and looks like it's wrong for you to lay down yourself forus who are a good long way on the other side of life's ridge. I oughtto send you back across the hills to--to find your own--no matter whathappens!"

  "Try it!" answered Rose Mary, again lifting her star eyes to his. "Iwas saving that money to buy Aunt Viney a set of teeth that she thinksshe wants, but I know she couldn't use them when she gets them. If I'mas beautiful as you say, isn't this blue homespun of great GrandmotherAlloways, made over twentieth century style, adornment enough? Somepeople--that is, some one--Mr. Mark said this morning it was--was_chic_, which means most awfully stylish. I've got one for my back andone for the tub all out of the same old blue bed-spread, and a whitelinen marvel contrived from a pair of sheets for Sunday. Please don'tsend me out into the big world--other people might not think me aslovely as you do," and her raillery was most beautifully dauntless.

  "The Lord bless you and keep you and make the sun to shine upon you,flower of His own Kingdom," answered Uncle Tucker with a comfortedsmile breaking over his wistful old face. "I had mighty high dreamsabout you when that young man talked his oil-wells to me a month ago,and I wanted my rose to do some of her flowering for the world to see,but maybe--maybe--"

  "She'll flower best here, where her roots go down into Sweetbriarhearts--and Sweetbriar prayers, Uncle Tucker; she knows that's true,and so do you," answered Rose Mary quickly. "And anyway, Mr. Mark ismaking the soil survey for you, and if we follow his directions thereis no telling what we will make next year, maybe the interest and someof the money, too, and the teeth and--and a sky-blue silk robe forme--if that's what you'd like to see me wear, though it would beinconvenient with the milking and the butter and--"

  "Tucker, oh Brother Tucker!" came a call across the garden fence fromthe house, in a weak but commanding voice, and Rose Mary caught aglimpse of Miss Lavinia's white mob cap bobbing at the end of theporch, "that is in Proverbs tenth and nineteenth, and not nineteenthand tenth, like you said. You come right in here and get it straightin your head before the next sun sets on your ignorance."

  "Fly-away!" exclaimed Uncle Tucker, "now Sister Viney's never going toforgive me that Bible slip-up if I don't persuade her from now on tillsupper. But there is nothing more for you to do out here, Rose Mary,the sun'll put out the light for you," and he hurried away down thepath and through the garden gate.

  Rose Mary remained leaning over the garden wall, looking up and downthe road with interest shining in her eyes and a laugh and nod for theneighbors who were hurrying supperward or stopping to talk with oneanother over fences and gates. A group of men and boys stood and saton the porch in front of the store, and their big voices rang out nowand again with hearty merriment at some exchange of wit or clever bitof horse-play. Two women stood in deep conclave over by the Poteetgate, and the subject of the council was a small bundle of flannel andlawn displayed with evident pride by a comely young woman in a pinkcalico dress. Seeing Rose Mary at the wall, they both smiled andstarted in her direction, the bearer of the bundle stepping carefullyacross the ditch at the side of the walk.

  "Lands alive, Rose Mary, you never did see nothing as pretty as thislast Poteet baby," exclaimed Mrs. Plunkett enthusiastically. "The yearbefore last one, let me see, weren't that Evelina Virginia, Mis'Poteet? Yes, Evelina Virginia was mighty pretty, but this one beatsher. I declare, if you was to fail us with these spring babies, Mis'Poteet, it would be a disappointment to the whole of Sweetbriar. Comenext April it will be seven without a year's break, astonishing as itdo sound."

  "It would be as bad as the sweetbriar roses not blooming, Mrs.Poteet," laughed Rose Mary as she held out her arms for the bundlewhich cuddled against her breast in a woman-maddening fashion thatmade her clasp the mite as close as she dared.

  "Yes, I tell you, seven hand-running is enough for any woman to beproud of, Mis' Poteet, and it ought to be taken notice of. Have youheard the news of the ten acres of bottom land to be given to him,Rose Mary? That's what all the men are a-joking of Mr. Poteet aboutover there at the store now. They are a-going to make out the deedto-night. Th
ey bought the land from Bob Nickols right next to Mr.Poteet's, crops and all, ten acres of the best land in Sweetbriar. Icall it a nice compliment. 'To Tucker Poteet, from Sweetbriar, is togo right in the deed."

  "'Tucker Poteet,' oh, Mrs. Poteet, have you named him for UncleTucker?" exclaimed Rose Mary with beaming eyes, and the rapture of herembrace was only modified by a slight squirm from the young heir ofall Sweetbriar.

  "Well, I had had that name in my mind from the first if he come a boy,but when Mr. Poteet got down to the store for some tansy, when heweren't a hour old, he found all the men-folks had done named him thatfor us, and it looked like we didn't have the chance to pass thecompliment. We ain't told you-all nothing about it, for they allwanted Mr. Tucker to read it in the deed first."

  "And ain't them men a-going to have a good time when they give Mr.Tucker that deed to read? Looks like, even if it is some trouble, youcouldn't hardly begrudge Sweetbriar these April babies, Mis' Poteet,"said Mrs. Plunkett in a consoling voice.

  "Law, Mis' Plunkett, I don't mind it one bit. It ain't a mite oftrouble to me to have 'em," answered the mother of the seven hardily."You all are so kind to help me out all the time with everything.Course we are poor, but Jim makes enough to feed us, and every singlechild I've got is by fortune, just a hand-down size for somebodyelse's children. Five of 'em just stair-steps into clothes of Mis'Rucker's four, and Mis' Nickols saves me all of Bob's things to cutdown, so I never have a mite of worry over any of 'em."

  "Yes, I reckon maybe the worry spread over seven don't have a chanctto come to a head on any one of 'em," said Mrs. Plunkett thoughtfully,and her shoulders began to stoop dejectedly as a perturbed expressiondawned into her gray eyes. "Better take him on home now, Mis' Poteet,for sundown is house-time for babies in my opinion. Hand him over,Rose Mary!"

  Thus admonished, with a last, clinging embrace, Rose Mary deliveredyoung Tucker to his mother, who departed with him in the direction ofthe Poteet cottage over beyond the milk-house.

  "Is anything worrying you, Mrs. Plunkett? Can I help?" asked Rose Maryas her neighbor lingered for a moment and glanced at her with wistfuleyes. Mrs. Plunkett was small, though round, with mournful big eyesand clad at all times in the most decorous of widow's weeds, even ifthey were of necessity of black calico on week days. Soft little curlsfell dejectedly down over her eyes and her red mouth defied a dimplethat had been wont to shine at the left corner, and kept to confinesof straight-lipped propriety.

  "It's about Louisa Helen again and her light-mindedness. I don't seehow a daughter of mine can act as she does with such a little feeling.Last night Mr. Crabtree shut up the store before eight o'clock and puton his Sunday coat to come over and set on the front steps a-visitingof her, and in less'n a half hour that Bob Nickols had whistled forher from the corner, and she stood at the front gate talking to himuntil every light in Sweetbriar was put out, and I know it muster beenpast nine o'clock. And there I had to set a-trying to distract Mr.Crabtree from her giggling. We talked about Mr. Plunkett and all ouryoung days and I felt real comforted. If I can jest get Louisa Helento see what a proper husband Thomas Crabtree will make for her we canall settle down comfortable like. He wants her bad, from all the signsI can see."

  "But--but isn't Louisa Helen a little young for--" began Rose Mary,taking what seemed a reasonable line of consolation.

  "No, she's not too young to marry," answered her mother with spirit."Louisa Helen is eighteen years old in May, and I was married to Mr.Plunkett before my eighteenth birthday. He was twenty-one, and Itreated him with proper respect, too. I never said no such foolishthings as Louisa Helen says to that Nickols boy, even to Mr.Crabtree, hisself."

  "Oh, please don't worry about Louisa Helen, Mrs. Plunkett. She is justso lovely and young--and happy. You and I both know what it is to belike that. Sometimes I feel as if she were just my own youngness thatI had kept pressed in a book and I had found it when I wasn't lookingfor it." And Rose Mary's smile was so very lovely that even Mrs.Plunkett was dazzled to behold.

  "Lands alive, Rose Mary, you carry your thirty years mighty easy, andthat's no mistake. You put me in mind of that blush peony bush ofyourn by the front gate. When it blooms it makes all the other flowerslook like they was too puny to shake out a petal. And for sheep'seyes, them glances Mr. Gid Newsome casts at you makes all of BobNickols' look like foolish lamb squints. And for what Mr. Mark does inthe line of sheeps--Now there they come, and I can see from LouisaHelen's looks she have invited that rampage in to supper. I'll have tohurry on over and knock up a extra sally-lunn for him, I reckon.Good-by 'til morning!" And Mrs. Plunkett hurried away to thepreparation of supper for the suitor of her disapproval.

  For a few moments longer Rose Mary let her eyes go roaming out overthe valley that was lying in a quiet hush of twilight.

  Lights had flashed up in the windows over the village and a nightbreeze was showering down a fall of apple-blow from the gnarled oldtree that stood like a great bouquet beside the front steps of theBriars. All the orchards along the Road were in bloom and a fragrancelay heavy over the pastures and mingled with the earth scent of thefields, newly upturned by the plowing for spring wheat.

  "Is that a regiment you've got camping in the garden, Rose Mary?"asked Everett as he came up the front walk in the moonlight some twohours later and found Rose Mary seated on the top of the front steps,all alone, with a perfectly dark and sleep-quiet house behind her.

  Rose Mary laughed and tossed a handful of the pink blow she hadgathered over his shoulder. "Did you have your supper at Bolivar?" sheasked solicitously. "I saved you some; want it?"

  "Yes, I had a repast at the Citizens', but I think I can manage yoursan hour or two later," answered Everett as he seated himself besideher and lighted a cigar, from which he began to puff rings out intothe moonlight that sifted down on to them through the young leaves ofthe bloom-covered old tree. "You weren't afraid of frost such a nightas this, were you?" he further inquired, as he took a deep breath ofthe soft, perfume-laden air.

  "I'm not now, but a cool breeze blew up about sundown and made meafraid for my garden babies. Now I'm sure they will all wilt undertheir covers, and you'll have to help me take them all off before yougo to bed. Isn't it strange how loving things make you afraid theywill freeze or wilt or get wet or cold or hungry?" asked Rose Marywith such delightful ingenuousness that a warm little flush rose upover Everett's collar. "Loving just frightens itself, like children inthe dark," she added musingly.

  "And you saved my supper for me?" asked Everett softly.

  "Of course I did; didn't you know I would?" asked Rose Mary quickly,in her simplicity of heart not at all catching the subtle drift of hisquestion. "They all missed you, and Uncle Tucker went to bed almostgrumpy, while Stonie--"

  "Rose Mamie," came in a sleepy but determined voice as the General ina long-tailed nightshirt appeared in the dark doorway, "I went tosleep and you never came back to hear me pray. Something woke me;maybe the puppy in my bed or maybe God. I'll come out there and say'em so you won't wake the puppy, because he's goned back to sleep," headded in a voice that was hushed to a tone of extreme considerationfor the slumber of his young bedfellow.

  "Yes, honey-heart, come say them here. Mr. Mark won't mind. I cameback, Stonie, to hear them, truly I did, but you were so fast to sleepand so tired I hated to wake you." And Rose Mary held out tender armsto the little chap who came and knelt on the floor at her side,between her and Everett.

  "But, Rose Mamie, you know Aunt Viney says tired ain't no 'scuse tothe Lord, and I don't think it are neither. I reckon He's tired, too,sometimes, but He don't go back on the listening, and I ain't a-goingto go back on the praying. It wouldn't be fair. Now start me!" andhaving in a completely argumentative way stated his feelings on thesubject of neglected prayer, the General buried his head on RoseMary's shoulder, folded one bare, pink foot across the other, claspedhis hands at proper angle and waited.

  "_Now I lay me_," began Rose Mary in a low and tender tone.

  "No," remonstrated S
tonie in a smothered voice from her shoulder,"this is 'Our Father' week! Don't tire out the Lord with the '_Now Ilay me_,' Rose Mamie!"

  With an exclamation of regret Rose Mary clasped him closer and led thepetition on through to its last word, though it was with difficultythat the sleepy General reached his Amen, his will being strong buthis flesh weak. The little black head burrowed under Rose Mary's chinand the clasped pink feet relaxed before the final words were said.For a few minutes Rose Mary held him tenderly and buried her faceagainst the back of the sunburned little neck, while as helpless asyoung Tucker Stonie wilted upon her breast and floated off into thedepths. And for still a few seconds longer Everett sat very still andwatched them with a curious gleam in his eyes and his teeth set hardin his cigar; then he rose, bent over and very tenderly lifted therelaxed General in his arms and without a word strode into the housewith him. Very carefully he laid him in the little cot that stoodbeside Rose Mary's bed in her room down the hall, and with equal carehe settled the little dog against the bare, briar-scratched feet,returned to the moonlight porch and resumed his seat at Rose Mary'sside.

  "There is something about the General," he remarked with a half smile,"that--that gets next. He has a moral fiber that I hope he will beable to keep resistent to its present extent, but I doubt it."

  "Oh," said Rose Mary, quickly looking up with pierced, startled eyes,"he must keep it--he must; it is the only hope for him. Tell me if youcan how to help him keep it. Help me help him!"

  "Forgive me," answered Everett in quick distress. "I was onlyscoffing, as usual. He'll keep what you give him, never fear, RoseMary; he's honor bound."

  "Yes, that's what I want him to be--'honor bound.' You don't knowabout him, but to-night I want to tell you, because I somehow feel youlove him--and us--and maybe if you know, some day you will help him.Just after I came back into the Valley and found them all so troubledand--and disgraced, something came to me I thought I couldn't stand.Always it seemed to me I had loved him, my cousin, Uncle Tucker's son,and I thought--I thought he had loved me. But when he went out intothe world one of the village girls, Granny Satterwhite's daughter, hadfollowed him and--yes, she had been his wife for all the time wethought she was working in the city. They had been afraid--afraid ofUncle Tucker and me--to acknowledge it. She was foolish and hecriminally weak. After his--his tragedy she came back--and nobodywould believe--that she was his wife. I found her lying on the floorin the milk-house and though I was hurt, and hard, I took her into myroom--and in a few hours Stonie was born. When they gave him to me, solittle and helpless, the hurt and hardness all melted for ever, and Ibelieved her and forgave her and him. I never rested until I made himcome back, though it was just to die. She stayed with us a year--andthen she married Todd Crabtree and moved West. They didn't wantStonie, so she gave him to me. When my heart ached so I couldn't standit, there was always Stonie to heal it. Do you think that heartachesare sometimes just growing pains the Lord sends when He thinks we havenot courage enough?" And in the moonlight Rose Mary's tear-starredeyes gleamed softly and her lovely mouth began to flower out into alittle smile. The sunshine of Rose Mary's nature always threw a bowthrough her tears against any cloud that appeared on her horizon.

  "I don't believe your heart ever needed any growing pains, Rose Mary,and I resent each and every one," answered Everett in a low voice, andhe lifted one of Rose Mary's strong slim hands and held it close for amoment in both his warm ones.

  "Oh, but it did," she answered, curling her fingers around his like achild grateful for a caress. "I was romantic--and--and intense, and Ithought of it as a castle for--for just one. Now it's grown into awide, wing-spreading, old country house in Harpeth Valley, with vinesover the gables and doves up under the eaves. And in it I keepsunshiny rooms to shelter all the folks in need that my Master sends.Yours--is on the south side--corner--don't you want your supper now?"