Red Rock: A Chronicle of Reconstruction

by Thomas Nelson Page

  CHAPTER XXXI

  JACQUELIN GRAY LEARNS THAT HE IS A FOOL, AND STEVE ASTONISHES MAJORWELCH

  The bill in Jacquelin’s suit against Mr. Still was not filed for sometime after the notice was sent and the suit instituted. But this periodwas utilized by Steve and Jacquelin in hunting up evidence; and by Mr.Still in holding conferences with Leech and the officers of the court.Meanwhile Steve Allen had met the Welches several times, and althoughthere was a perceptible coolness in their manner to him, yet civilitieswere kept up. As for Steve himself, he went on just as he had donebefore, ignoring the change and apparently perfectly oblivious of thechilliness with which he was received.

  Yet Steve appeared to have changed. His old cheerfulness and jovialityseemed to have gone, and he was often in a state bordering on gloom.As, however, most of those in that part of the world were at this timein a state of actual gloom, Steve’s condition was set down to thegeneral cause. Occasionally it occurred to Jacquelin that some troublewith Blair Cary might have a part in it. His Aunt Thomasia’s words hadstuck in his memory. Steve did not go to Dr. Cary’s as often as he usedto go; and when he did go, on his return to the Court-house he wasalmost always in one of his fits of depression. Jacquelin set it downto another exhibition of Blair’s habitual capriciousness. It was thatYankee Captain that stood in the way. And Jacquelin hardened his heart,and vowed to himself that he would not see Blair again.

  At length the bill in Jacquelin’s suit was ready.

  It was at the end of a hard day’s work that Jacquelin had put thefinishing touches to it, and as he completed the copy from a draft thatSteve had made, he handed it across to Steve to read over. It was abill to reopen, on the ground of fraud, the old suit in which Still hadbecome the purchaser of Red Rock, and to set aside the conveyance tohim and the subsequent conveyance of a part of his purchase to MajorWelch. It went somewhat into a history of the confidential relationthat Still had borne to Jacquelin’s and Rupert’s father; charged thatStill’s possession of the bonds was fraudulent, and that even, if notso, the bonds had been discharged by proceeds of the estate that hadcome to the steward’s hands. It charged Still with gross fraud inhis accounts, as well as in the possession of the bonds. It ended bymaking Major Welch a party, as a subsequent purchaser, and chargedconstructive knowledge on his part of Still’s fraud. Actual knowledgeof this by him was expressly disclaimed, but it was stated that he hadknowledge of facts which should have put him on inquiry. It was allegedthat a formal notice had been served on Major Welch before he becamethe purchaser, and it asked that “an issue out of chancery,” as thelawyers term it, might be awarded to try the question of fraud.

  When Steve finished reading the paper, he laid it on his desk andleaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, in deepthought. Jacquelin did not disturb him; but watched him in silence asthe expression on his face deepened into one almost of gloom. PresentlySteve stirred.

  “Well, is that all?” asked Jacquelin.

  “Yes.” He actually sighed.

  “You don’t think it will hold?”

  “No. I am sure we shall show fraud—on that rascal’s part—at least,so far as his accounts are concerned. We have followed up some of hisrascality, and I am equally sure that his possession of the big bondwas fraudulent. Your father never owed him all that money, in theworld; but how did he get hold of it? The man in the South in whosename it was made out is dead, and all his papers burned. Still turns upwith the bond assigned to him, and says it was given him for negroes hesold. Now, how shall we meet it? We know he made money negro-trading.Rupert’s story of hearing the conversation with your father is toovague. He can’t explain what your father meant by his reference to theIndian-killer, and his threats against Hiram will weaken his testimony.Hiram’s afraid of him, though, and he’d better be. We’ll have to sendhim away. He’s with McRaffle too much.”

  Jacquelin’s face sobered, and he sighed. The thought of Rupert cost himmany sighs these days.

  “I am not sure that we have been specific enough in our charges,” Stevecontinued, “and I am sure the judge will be against us. He has nevergotten over the peeling I gave him when he first turned Rad, and he andHiram are as thick as thieves.”

  “Yes; but, as you say, we’ll get at something, and it is all we cando. I am willing to take the risk for Rupert, if not for myself. Willyou sign as counsel? And I’ll go over to the office and file it. Mr.Dockett said he’d wait for us.”

  Steve took the pen and dipped it in the ink; then again leaned back inhis chair, and then, after a second’s thought, sat up and signed thepaper rapidly, and Jacquelin took it and went out. In a few minutes hereturned.

  “Well, the Rubicon is crossed,” he said, gayly.

  Steve did not answer. He was again leaning back in his chair, deep inthought, his eyes on the ceiling, his face graver than before.

  “Steve, don’t bother about the thing any more. We’ve done the bestwe could, and if we fail we fail, that’s all.” But the other did notrespond in the same vein.

  “Yes, we’ve crossed the Rubicon,” he said, with something between asigh and a yawn.

  “Steve, what’s the matter?”

  “Oh, nothing.”

  “Yes, there is—tell me.”

  “Nothing—I assure you, there’s not.”

  “And I know better. Confound it! can’t I see something is going onthat I don’t understand? You couldn’t, be gloomier if you had brokenwith—with your sweetheart.”

  “Well, I have.” Steve turned and looked out of the window to where thelight in the clerk’s office shone through the trees.

  “What!” Jacquelin was on his feet in a second.

  “Jack, I’m in love.”

  “I know that. But what do you mean by—by—that you have broken with—?”

  “That I’m in love with Ruth Welch.” he spoke quietly.

  “What—what do you mean?” Jacquelin’s voice faltered.

  “What I say—that I’ve been in love with her ever since I met her.” Hewas still looking out of the window.

  “Steve!” Jacquelin’s tone had changed and was full of deep reproach. AsSteve was not looking at him and did not answer, he went on: “Steve, Idon’t understand. Does she know?” His throat was dry and his voice hard.

  “I don’t know—”

  “Steve Allen!” The tone was such that Steve turned to look at him.

  “What’s the matter with you?”

  “That’s what I have to ask you,” said Jacquelin, sternly. “Are youcrazy?”

  “I don’t know whether I am or not,” Steve said, half bitterly. “Butthat’s the fact, anyhow.”

  Jacquelin’s face had paled, and his form was tense.

  “Steve, if anyone else had told me this of you, he’d not have stood tocomplete his sentence. I thought you were a gentleman,” he sneered.

  “Jacquelin Gray!” Steve sprang to his feet, and the two young men stoodfacing each other, their faces white and their eyes blazing. Jacquelinspoke first.

  “As Blair Cary has no brother to protect her, I will do it. I neverthought it would have to be against you.”

  “Blair Cary? Protect her against me? In God’s name, what do you mean?”

  “You know.”

  “I swear I do not!”

  Jacquelin turned from him with a gesture of contempt; but Steve seizedhim roughly.

  “By Heaven! you shall tell me. I feel as if the earth were giving waybefore me.”

  Jacquelin shook him off, but faced him, his whole expression full ofscorn.

  “Haven’t you been engaged to—engaged to—or as good as engaged to—or,at least, in love with Blair Cary for years?”

  Steve gazed at him for a moment with a puzzled look on his face, whichgave place the next instant to one of inexpressible amusement, andthen, with a shove which sent Jacquelin spinning across the room, flunghimself into his chair and burst into a ringing laugh.

  “You fool! you blamed fool!” he exclaimed. “But I’m a
fool, too,” hesaid, standing and facing Jacquelin.

  “I think you are.” Jacquelin was still grave.

  “Why, Blair knows it.”

  “Knows what?”

  “Knows that I’m in love with Ruth Welch. She divined it long ago andhas been my confidante.”

  “What!—Steve!—” The expression on Jacquelin’s face underwent adozen changes in as many seconds. Astonishment, incredulity, memory,reflection, regret, hope—all were there, chasing each other andtumbling over one another in wild confusion. “Steve,” he began again inhopeless amazement, with a tone almost of entreaty, but stopped short.

  “You double-dyed, blind idiot!” exclaimed Steve, “Don’t you know thatBlair Cary don’t care a button for me? never has cared and never willcare but for one man——?”

  “Middleton!” Jacquelin turned away with a fierce gesture.

  “No, you jealous fool!”

  “Then, in Heaven’s name, who is it?” Jacquelin again faced him.

  “A blind idiot.”

  The effect was not what Steve had anticipated. Jacquelin made a wildgesture of dissent, turned his back, and, walking to the window, puthis forearm against the sash, and leaned his forehead on it.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, bitterly. “Shehates me. She treats me like——She has always done it since thatcursed Middleton——”

  “I don’t say she hasn’t. I simply say she——” Steve broke off. “Sheought to have treated you badly. You made a fool of yourself, and havebeen a fool ever since. But I know she cared for you—before that,and if you had gone about it in the right way, you’d have won her.”(Jacquelin groaned.) “Instead of that, you must get on a high horse andput on your high and mighty airs and try to hector a spirited girl likeBlair Cary.” (A groan from the window.) “Why, if I were to treat myhorse as you did her, he’d break my neck.”

  “Oh, Steve!”

  “And then after she had tried to prove it to you, for you to go and putit on another’s account, of course she kicked—and she ought to havedone so, and has treated you coldly ever since.”

  Jacquelin faced him.

  “Steve, I loved her so. I have loved her ever since I was a boy—eversince that day I made her jump off the barn. It was what kept me alivein prison many a time when otherwise I’d have gone. And when I camehome, ready to go down on my knees to her—to die for her, to find hergiven to another, or, if not——” He stopped and turned away again.

  “Then why didn’t you tell her so, instead of outraging her feelings?”demanded Steve.

  “Because—because I thought you loved her and she loved you, and Iwould not——!” He turned off and walked to the window.

  Steve rose and went up to him.

  “Jacquelin,” he said, putting his hand on his shoulder, and speakingwith a new tenderness, “I never knew it—I never dreamed it. Youhave been blind, boy. And I have been worse. I was never in lovewith her and she knew it. At first, I simply meant to bedevil you,and—Middleton—and then afterward, used to tease her to see her letout about you; but that was all. She has known ever since Ruth Welchcame here that I liked her, and now—that I have become a fool like therest of you.” He turned away.

  Jacquelin stood for a moment looking at him, a light dawning on hisface.

  “Steve, I beg your pardon for what I said.” He stood lost in thought.The next second he rushed out of the door. In a moment he was back, andheld the bill he had just filed, in his hand. Steve rose as he entered.

  “What have you done?”

  “I may be a fool—but—” He held up the bill and glancing at it, caughthold of the last sheet and began to tear it. Steve made a spring, butwas too late; Jacquelin had torn the signature from the paper.

  “I’m not such a selfish dog as to let you do it and bar your chance ofhappiness. I did not know. Do you suppose Miss Welch would ever marryyou if you signed that bill?”

  “No. But do you suppose I will not tell her of my part in bringing thesuit?”

  “Of course you will—but she’ll forgive you for that.”

  It was late in the night before their disagreement was settled.

  Steve insisted that he would sign the bill; he had brought the suit andhe would assume the responsibility for it. But he had met his match.Jacquelin was firm, and finally declared that if Steve still held tohis decision he would not press the suit at all. Steve urged Rupert’sinterest. Jacquelin said Rupert would still have six months after hecame of age, in which to save his rights. In this unexpected turn ofthe case, Steve was forced to yield; and Jacquelin recopied the wholebill in his own hand and filed it the next morning. It was signed byJacquelin and Rupert personally, and by General Legaie as counsel.

  It created a sensation in at least two households in the County.

  When Still read the bill, he almost dropped to the floor. The attackwas made on the ground of fraud, and Major Welch had said the statuteof limitations did not apply. After a conference, however, with Leech,who happened to be at home, he felt better. Leech assured him that thebill would not hold good against his possession of the bonds.

  “They’ll hold against all creation,” said that counsellor, “if theyweren’t stolen and ain’t been paid.”

  This declaration did not seem to relieve Still much.

  “And they’ve got to prove both of ’em,” added Major Leech, “and prove’em before our judge.”

  Still’s face cleared up.

  “Well, Welch is obliged to stand by us. We’ll go and see him.”

  So, that evening they took a copy of the bill to Major Welch. Mrs.Welch and Miss Ruth both were in a state of great excitement andindignation. The idea of fraud being charged against Major Welch was anoutrage that they could not tolerate.

  Major Welch alone was calm and unmoved. It was, after all, expresslystated that no actual fraud was attributed to him, and though, ofcourse, he felt keenly having his name mixed up with such a matter, hehad no anxiety as to the result. He could readily prove that he had hadno knowledge whatever of anything to arouse the slightest suspicion. Heshould, of course, have to employ counsel. He began to canvass theirnames.

  “Papa, why don’t you get Mr. Allen to represent you? They say he is thebest lawyer in this part of the country,” said Ruth. She was consciousthat her color came as Still quickly looked at her.

  “He’s the one that started the whole matter, ma’am.”

  “Why, I don’t see his name to the bill!” the Major said.

  “Ain’t it? Well, anyhow he’s the main one. If it hadn’t been for himthe suit never would ’a’ been brought. Colonel Leech saw a copy of thebill in his handwriting in his office this morning, didn’ you, Colonel?”

  Leech declared that he had seen the copy, and corroborated his clientin his statement that Captain Allen had inspired the suit.

  Mrs. Welch gave an exclamation of indignation.

  “Well, I did not think he would have played the sneak!”

  Ruth’s face flamed and turned white by turns.

  “You don’t know him yet,” said Still, plaintively, “Does she, Colonel?”

  “No—he’s a bad man,” said Leech, unctuously.

  “He is that,” said Still. He dropped his voice. “You look out for him,Major. He’s after you. If I was you I’d carry a pistol pretty handy.”Major Welch gave a gesture of impatience.

  Ruth’s eyes flashed a sudden gleam, and her face flamed again. Sherose, walked to the window, and pressed deep in between the curtains.Still addressed himself to Major Welch.

  “The Colonel says ’tain’t goin’ to be any trouble to beat the suit;that he can git it dismissed on demurrer—if that’s the word? You knowI ain’t any book-learnin’—I’m nothin’ but a plain farmer. And he saysthe judge is sure to—”

  “Yes—that’s it,” said Leech, quickly, with a glance of warning at him.“I don’t cross a bridge till I get to it; I’ve got several in thiscase, but, as Mr. Bagby says, I believe in making every defence.”


  “That may be so; but I’m going to fight this case on its merits,”declared Major Welch, firmly. “I don’t propose, when a question offraud is raised, to shelter myself behind any technicalities. I meanto make it as clear as day that I had no connection with any fraud. Ispoke to Mr. Bagby when the rumor of a suit was first started, and toldhim so.” Though he spoke quietly his voice had a ring in it and hisface a light on it which made both Mrs. Welch and Ruth proud of him,and Ruth squeezed her mother’s arm, in her joy. How different he lookedfrom those other men!

  Meantime the change in Steve Allen was perceptible to many who had noidea of the true reason it was so.

  Jacquelin set it down to the wrong cause. Miss Thomasia, likeJacquelin, laid Steve’s despondency at Blair’s door, and the good ladycast about in her mind how she might draw Blair into a discussion ofthe subject and give her some affectionate advice. But as often as shetouched on the subject of love, even in the most distant way, bringingin Jacquelin as a sort of introduction, Blair shied off from it, sothat Miss Thomasia found it more difficult to accomplish than she hadanticipated.

  Steve, however, was working on his own lines. His present situationwas intolerable to him. The fact that his name had not appeared onJacquelin’s bill stuck in his memory like a thorn. He was lying on thegrass under a tree in the court-green one afternoon reading a book,not a law-book either, when the sound of horses’ feet caught his ear.He looked up lazily as it came nearer, and soon in view appeared tworiders, a girl and a young man. They cantered easily along the littlestreet, their laughter coming across to Steve where he lay, his bookneglected on the ground beside him. Steve stretched, and picking uphis book dived once more into the “Idylls of the King.” But the spellwas broken. A line from Dante flashed through his mind. Launcelot andGuinevere; Tristram and Isolt; Geraint and Enid, interested him nomore. The reality had passed before him. Resting his head against thetree, he tried to go to sleep; but the minute denizens about in thegrass bothered him, the droning of bees in the locust boughs abovefailed to lull him.

  “‘I am half sick of shadows,’” he murmured to himself, and he sat upand, resting against the tree, thought deeply. Another line came to him:

  “On burnished hooves his war-horse trode.”

  He suddenly sprang to his feet and walked straight to his office, hisface resolute and his step determined. He was not a girl to be caughtin a mesh! He would be the other. Jacquelin was at his desk, deep in abig law-book. Steve shut the door behind him and stood with his backagainst it looking down at his partner.

  “Jacquelin, I am going to marry Ruth Welch.”

  “What!” Jacquelin looked up in blank amazement. “Oh!” he laughed. “Ithought you meant you had asked her.”

  “You misunderstand me. It is not conceit. It is determination. I haveno idea she will accept me now; but she will in the end. She shall, Iwill win her.” He was grave, and though his words spoke conceit, hisvoice and face had not a trace of it. Jacquelin too became grave.

  “I believe you can win her if you try, Steve—unless someone else is inthe way; but it is a long chase, I warn you.” Steve’s brow clouded fora second, but the shadow disappeared as quickly as it came.

  “You don’t think there’s anything in that story about Wash Still?” Histone had a certain fiery contempt in it. “I tell you there isn’t. I’llstake my salvation on that. An eagle does not mate with a weasel!”

  “No—I do not believe she would, but how about her mother? You knowwhat she thinks of us, and what they say of her missionary ideas, andWash Still has been playing assiduously on that string of late. He isvisiting all her sick, free—he says. Besides they have not the sameideas that we have about family and so on, and they don’t know theStills as we do.”

  “Not pride of family! You don’t know her. She’s one of the proudestpeople in the United States, of her family. I tell you she could giveGeneral Legaie six in the game and beat him. By Jove! I wish one coulddo the old-fashioned way. I’d just ride up and storm the strongholdand carry her off!” burst out Steve, straightening up and stretchingout his arms, half in jest, half in earnest, his eyes flashing and hiscolor rising at the thought.

  “Now you have to storm the stronghold all the same, without carryingher off,” Jacquelin laughed.

  “No, I’ll carry her away some day,” asseverated Steve, confidently.“It’s worth all my worthless life and a good deal more too.”

  “I think if you get into that spirit you may win her; but I’m afraidthey’ll hardly recognize you in the rôle of humility. I doubt if theyhave heard much of you in that character. How are you going about it?You have not seen her since the suit was brought, and I doubt if shewill speak to you.”

  “She will not? I’ll make her. Whether she speaks or not, I’ll win her.”

  “There goes your robe of humility. You have to win her parentsfirst—for you have to ask their permission.”

  Steve relapsed into thought for a moment, during which Jacquelinwatched him closely.

  “Do you think that’s necessary?” he asked, doubtfully, as if almost tohimself.

  STEVE STRETCHED, AND, PICKING UP HIS BOOK, DIVED ONCEMORE INTO THE “IDYLLS OF THE KING.”]

  “I do, under the circumstances—for you; not for Wash Still.”

  “The gorgon will refuse me——”

  “Probably—All the same, you have to do it.”

  Suddenly, with a sigh, Steve came out of his reverie as if he wereemerging from a cloud. His countenance cleared up and he spoke withdecision.

  “You are right. I knew you were right all the time. But I did not wantto do it. I will, though. I’ll do it if I lose her.” He turned to goout.

  “When are you going to do it?”

  “Right now.” In the presence of contest Steve’s face had got back allits fire, his voice all its ring.

  “I believe you’ll win her,” said Jacquelin.

  “I know I shall, some day,” said Steve. And a little later Jacquelinheard him in his room, whistling “Bonny Dundee,” and calling to Jerryto saddle his horse.

  Major Welch was sitting on his veranda that afternoon about sunset whena rider came out of the woods far below, at a gallop, and continuedto gallop all the way up the hill. There was something about a rapidgallop up hill and down that always bore Major Welch’s mind back tothe war. As the horseman came nearer, Major Welch recognized CaptainAllen. He remembered the advice Still had recently given him, always tohave a pistol handy when he met Allen. He put the thought away from himwith almost a flush of shame that it should even have crossed his mind.Should he meet a man at his own door, with a weapon? Not if he was shotdown for it. So, as the rider approached, Major Welch walked down tomeet him at the gate, just as Steve, dismounting, tied his horse.

  The young man’s face was pale, his manner constrained, and he wasmanifestly laboring under more emotion than he usually showed.Wondering what could be the object of his call, Major Welch met himgravely. Steve held out his hand and the Major took it formally. At anyrate the mission was peaceful.

  “Major Welch, I have come to see you—” he began hesitatingly, his hatin his hand, and his face flushed.

  “Won’t you walk up on the veranda and sit down?” The Major did not meanto be outdone in civility.

  “Not until I have stated the object of my visit. Then, if you chooseto invite me, I shall be very glad to accept.” He had recovered hiscomposure.

  The Major was more mystified.

  “I have come this evening for a purpose which, perhaps, will—no doubtwill—surprise you.” The Major looked affirmative, and wondered moreand more what it could mean.

  “I have come to ask your permission to pay my addresses to yourdaughter.”

  If the Major was expecting to be surprised, he was more than surprised;he was dazed—he almost gasped.

  “What?”

  “I am not surprised that you are astonished.” The younger man, now thatthe ice was broken, was regaining his composure. “It is, however, nosudd
en impulse on my part.” How melodious his deep voice had grown!Major Welch was sensible of the charm growing upon him that he had seenexercised in the case of others.

  “I have loved your daughter”—(his voice suddenly sank to a pitch asfull of reverence as of softness)—“a long time; perhaps not long induration, but ever since I knew her. From that evening that I first mether here, I have loved her.” His glance stole toward the tree in whichhe had found Ruth that afternoon. “If I can obtain your consent, andshall find favor in her eyes, I shall be the happiest and most blessedof men.” He gave a deep sigh of relief. He stood suddenly before MajorWelch a different being—modest and manly, not without recognition ofhis power, and yet not for a second presuming on it. Major Welch couldnot help being impressed by him. A wave of the old liking that he hadhad for him when he first met him came over him.

  “Does my daughter know of this?” he asked.

  “I hardly know. I have never said anything of it to her directly, but Ido not know how much a girl’s instinct can read. My manner has seemedto myself always that of a suitor, and at times I have wondered how shecould help reading the thoughts of my heart; they have seemed to mealmost audible. Others have known it for some time; at least one otherhas. I thought your daughter knew it. Yet now I cannot tell. She hasnever given me the slightest encouragement.”

  “I thought you were in love with—with someone else; with your cousin,and her accepted lover? Rumor has so stated it?” The elder gentleman’smanner cooled again as the thought recurred to him.

  Steve smiled.

  “Blair Cary? I do love her—dearly—but only as an admirer and olderbrother might. I am aware of the impression that has existed, buther heart has long been given to another who has loved her from hisboyhood. From certain causes, which I need not trouble you with andwhich occurred before you arrived, differences grew up between them,and they became estranged; but the affection remains. Jacquelin doesnot know it, but in time he will succeed, and it is one of my mostcherished hopes that some time he will realize that great happiness instore for him. Meantime, I feel sure that you will consider what I havesaid of this as confidential. I have, perhaps, said more than I shouldhave done.”

  Major Welch bowed. “Of course I will. And now I wish to say that I amso much taken by surprise by what you have told me that I scarcely knowjust what answer to give you at this time. I appreciate the step youhave taken. But it is so strange—so unexpected—that I must have timefor reflection. I must consult my wife, who is my best adviser and ourdaughter’s best guardian. And I can only say that we wish for nothingbut our child’s best and most lasting happiness. I cannot, of course,under the circumstances renew my invitation to you to come in.” Hepaused and reflected. “Nor can I hold out to you any hope. And I thinkI must ask you not to speak to my daughter on the subject until I havegiven my consent.”

  “I promise you that,” said Steve. “I should not have come to you at allunless I had been prepared to give that promise.”

  The young man evidently had something more that he wished to say; hehesitated a moment and then began again.

  “One other thing I should tell you. I brought the suit for Jacquelinand Rupert Gray. Although my name was not signed to the bill, I broughtthe suit, and have the responsibility.”

  Major Welch could not help a graver look coming into his face—he feltalmost grim, but he tried to choke down the sensation.

  “I was aware of that.”

  “There is one word more I would like to say, but—not now—I shouldpossibly be misunderstood. Perhaps the day may come—May I say in themeantime that I am not one who changes or is easily disheartened? Iknow that even if I should secure your consent I should have to makethe fight of my life to win your daughter—but I should do it. I thinkthe prize well worth all, and far more than all I could give.”

  He stood diffidently, as though not knowing whether Major Welch wouldtake his hand if offered. The Major, however, made the advance andthe two men shook hands ceremoniously and Steve mounted his horse andwithout looking back rode off, while Major Welch returned slowly to thehouse. The only glance Steve gave was one up toward the old cherry-treein the yard.

  Mrs. Welch had seen Steve ride up and had watched with curiosity andsome anxiety the conference that had taken place at the gate. When theMajor stated to her the object of Mr. Allen’s visit she was too muchsurprised to speak. She, however, received the announcement somewhatdifferently from the way the Major had expected. She was deeplyoffended. Without an instant’s hesitation she was for despatching animmediate and indignant refusal.

  “Of course, you at once refused him and told him what you thought ofhis effrontery?” she said.

  “Well—no, I did not,” said Major Welch. In fact, though the Major hadbeen astonished by Steve’s proposal and had supposed that it would berejected, it had not occurred to him that his wife would take it injust this way.

  “You did not! Oh, you men! I wish he had spoken to me! It was anopportunity I should not have lost. But he would not have dared to faceme with his insulting proposal.”

  “Well, I don’t think he intended it as an insult, and without intentionit cannot be an insult. I think if you had seen him you would have feltthis.”

  “Do you think I would entrust my daughter’s happiness to a desperadoand a midnight assassin?”

  “No, I cannot say that I thought you would—nor would I. But I am notprepared to say I think him either an assassin or a desperado.”

  “Well, I am,” asserted Mrs. Welch. “I was deceived in him once and Iwill not give him a chance again.”

  “I simply told him that I would confer with you and give him ouranswer.”

  “He will take that as encouragement,” declared Mrs. Welch, “and will bepursuing Ruth and persecuting her.”

  “No, he will not. He gave me his word that he would not speak to herwithout my—without our consent——”

  “He will not keep it.” Mrs. Welch’s words were not as positive as hermanner.

  “Yes, he will. I will stand sponsor.” Major Welch was thinking of theyoung man as he had just stood before him.

  “Well, I am glad you extracted that much of a pledge from him. He willnot get my consent in this life, I can assure him.”

  “Nor mine without yours and Ruth’s,” said Major Welch, gravely. “I willwrite him and tell him what you say. Shall I mention it to Ruth? “

  “No, of course not.”

  Major Welch did not see why it should be “of course”; but he consideredthat his wife knew more of such things than he did, and he accordinglyaccepted her opinion without question.

  “Where is Ruth?” he asked.

  “She went with Dr. Still to see a sick woman he wanted me to see. I wasnot able to go this afternoon when he called, so I sent her. I don’tthink there is much the matter with her.”

  Major Welch sat for a moment in deep reflection. He was evidentlypuzzled. Suddenly he broke the silence.

  “Prudence, you don’t mean that you wish that—that you think that youngfellow is a suitable—ah—companion for our daughter?” That was not theword Major Welch meant.

  “William!” exclaimed Mrs. Welch. She said no more, and it was notnecessary. Major Welch felt that he had committed a great mistake—aterrible blunder. A moment before, he had had the best of thesituation, and he had been conscious of a feeling of somewhat exaltedvirtue; now he had thrown it away. He felt very foolish, and though hehoped he did not show it, he did show it plainly. He began to defendhimself: a further blunder.

  “Well, my dear, how could I know? That young fellow has been comingover here day after day, with his horses and buggies, on one pretextor another—tagging after—not after you or me certainly—and you areas civil to him as if he were the—the President himself, and actuallysend the child off with him——”

  “William! Send the child off with him!—I!”

  “Well, no—not exactly that, of course,” said her husband, ratherembarrassed, “but permitting her to g
o, and thus giving him anopportunity to declare himself, which he would be a stick not to availhimself of.”

  “I am glad you retracted that, William,” said Mrs. Welch, with the airof one deeply aggrieved. “Of course, I am civil to the young man. Ihope I am civil to everyone. But you little know a mother’s heart. Ihave always said that no man can understand a woman.”

  “I believe that’s so,” said her husband, smiling. “I know I have oftenheard your Royal Highness say so. But did it ever occur to you that itmay be because men are somewhat direct and downright? “

  “Now don’t go and insult my sex to cover the density of yours,” saidMrs. Welch. “Confine your attack to one. If you think that I wouldallow my daughter to marry that—that young upstart, you don’t know meas well as you did the first day we met.”

  “Oh, yes I do! I know you well enough to know you are the best and mostdevoted wife and mother and friend in the world,” declared her husband.“But, you see, I misunderstood you. I reason simply from the plainfacts that lie right before my eyes——”

  “And you always will misunderstand, my dear. Your sex always willmisunderstand until they learn that woman is a more complex and finerorganism that their clumsy, primary machine, moved by more delicate andcomplicated motives.”

  “Well, I agree to that,” said her husband. “And I am very glad tofind you agree with me—that I agree with you—” he corrected, with atwinkle in his eye, “as to that young man.”

  Mrs. Welch accepted his surrender with graciousness and left the room,and the Major sat down and wrote his reply to Captain Allen.

  He expressed his unfeigned appreciation of the honor done, but gave himto understand that after conference with Mrs. Welch they felt it theirduty to state to him that his suit for their daughter would not beacceptable to them, and he requested him to consider the matter closed.

  As soon as he had finished the letter the Major despatched it to Mr.Allen by a messenger.

  He had hardly sent it off when Mrs. Welch returned. Her first questionwas whether the answer had gone. She was manifestly disappointed tolearn that it had been sent.

  “I wish you had let me see it,” she said.

  “Oh! I made it positive enough,” declared the Major.

  “Yes, I was not thinking of that,” Mrs. Welch said, thoughtfully. “Iwas afraid you would be too—Men are so hasty—so up and down—theydon’t know how to deal with such matters as a woman would.”

  Major Welch turned on her in blank amazement—a little humor lightingup his face. Mrs. Welch answered as if he had made a charge.

  “You men will never understand us.”

  “I believe that’s so. You women are curious, especially where yourdaughters are concerned. I set the young man down pretty hard, just asyou wished me to do.”

  Mrs. Welch made a gesture of dissent.

  “Not at all—I have reflected on what you said about—about his notintending to be insulting, and I think you are right. I no more wish toaccept his proposal now than before; all I want is to—?” She made agesture—“Oh! you understand.”

  “Yes, I think I do,” laughed her husband “Why cannot women let a mango?”