The Homesteader: A Novel

by Oscar Micheaux

  CHAPTER X

  "YOU HAVE NEVER BEEN THIS WAY BEFORE"

  When Agnes Stewart found her father and they were ready to return home,she inquired:

  "Did he see you?"

  "See who?"

  "You? You don't understand. I mean the colored gentleman, Mr. Baptiste?"

  "Why, no, my dear," her father replied wonderingly. "I saw him, but Ihad no word with him. I don't understand."

  "Why, I met him. Mrs. Reynolds, who knows you--she and I becameacquainted, and we met and had a long talk with Mr. Baptiste, and he isgoing to hire a man, so we discussed Bill. He said he would see you."Her father drew the team to a stop.

  "I don't understand. I should see him, and I did, but he was talkingwith some fellows who live north of town. I think it was about horses.He went with them, so I suppose we may as well go on home and see himlater."

  "I'm so sorry," she said and showed it in her face. "I had hoped hewould get to see you, and that it would all be settled and Bill wouldget the job."

  "Don't be so out of hope," said he. "I have no doubt that we will get tosee Mr. Baptiste, and talk it over."

  "I am worried, because--you know, papa, when we have paid for the seedand feed, we will have very little left."

  "Such a wonderful, such a thoughtful little girl I have," he saidadmiringly, stroking her hand fondly in the meantime. "I can't imaginehow I could get along without my Aggie."

  "See him and get Bill hired and I'll not worry any more."

  "I'll do so, I'll do so tomorrow."

  "You say you saw him going north of town?"

  "Yes."

  She was silent, while he was thoughtful. Presently he inquired of whatpassed when she met him.

  She told him.

  "I never spoke of having met him before."

  "You didn't?"

  "Why, no, papa. How could I? It would be hard to explain."

  "Well, now, coming to think of it, it would, wouldn't it?"

  "It _shouldn't_," she said. She didn't relish the situation.

  "Did he?"

  "What?"

  "Speak of it."

  "Oh, no! He didn't...."

  "I wonder has he ever."

  "I don't think so."

  "That is very thoughtful of him."

  "It is. He is a real gentleman."

  "So everybody says."

  "And so pleasant to listen to."

  "Indeed."

  "Mrs. Reynolds is carried away with him. Says he's one of the mostindustrious and energetic young men of the country."

  "Isn't that fine! But it seems rather odd, doesn't it? Him out herealone."

  "It is indeed singular. But he is just the kind of man a new countryneeds."

  "If the country had a few hundred more like him we wouldn't know it infive years."

  "In three years!" she said admiringly.

  "How shall we explain in regards to Bill?..."

  "I've explained."

  "You have!"

  "Oh, I didn't come out and say it in words, of course. I didn't needto."

  "Then how? How did you make him understand?"

  "It was easy. It was easy because he is so quick witted. He seems toreadily understand anything."

  "I'll bet!"

  "He spoke of the fact that being a bachelor it was awkward to keep hiredmen, and this fact seemed to worry him."

  "But why didn't you explain that Bill could stay home?"

  "I did."

  "Oh!"

  "And he was so relieved."

  "I'm sure he was. It is very inconvenient."

  "It is. And I feel rather sorry for him."

  "Needs a wife."

  She was silent.

  "Wonder why he doesn't marry?"

  "I don't know."

  "Will make some girl a fine husband."

  Silence.

  "I guess he has a girl, though, and will likely marry soon."

  "I don't think so."

  "Why?"

  "Well," she said slowly. She blushed unseen and went on: "Mrs. Reynoldsjoked him about it, and he denied it."

  "But any man would do that. They like to be modest; to appear like theyhave no loves. It creates sympathy. Men are sentimental, too. They likesympathy."

  "Yes, I suppose so," she said slowly, thoughtfully. "But I don't thinkhe has a girl. In my mind he is a poor lonesome fellow. Just like he hasno close friends...."

  He was silent now.

  "I have thought about it since I met him."

  "You have?"

  "Why, yes. Certainly."

  Her father laughed.

  "Why are you laughing?" she asked, somewhat nettled.

  "I was thinking."

  "Thinking? Thinking of what?"

  "Of Jean Baptiste."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Why, there is a good chance for you."

  "Father!"

  "Why not!"

  "Father! How can you!"

  He laughed. She acted as if angry. He looked at her mischievously. Shedid not grant him a smile.

  "Tut, tut, Aggie! Can't you take a joke?"

  "But you should not joke like that."

  "Oh, come now. It pleased me to joke like that."

  "Why should it please you?"

  "Why, I have a sense of humor."

  "A sense of humor?"

  "Yes."

  "But I don't see the joke?"

  "Why, Aggie," he turned to her seriously. "Almost I don't think it is ajoke."

  "Father!"

  "Well, dear? You seem to be so interested in the man."

  "Father, oh, father!" and the next instant she was crying. He reachedout and caught her fondly to him. "My girl, my girl, I didn't intend toupset you. Now be papa's little darling and don't cry any more!"

  "You have never been this way before," she sobbed. He caressed her morenow.

  "Well, dearest. You see. Well, your mother--"

  "My mother!" she sat quickly up.

  "We are going to raise a great crop this year. I feel sure of it."

  "But my mother!"

  "I think I know where I can get some good seed oats."

  They rode along in silence the rest of the way, consumed with their ownthoughts. No words passed, but Agnes was thinking. She would never getout of her mind what her father had started to say. But he had stoppedin time.... Her mind went back to the strange incidents in her life. Shelived over again the day she had looked in the mirror and had seen thatstrange look, she connected it singularly with what her father hadstarted to say. She was silent thereafter, but her soul was on fire.