miss india made no exception that morning to her general rule, and holly presided over the coffee cups. the table was rather large, and although winthrop’s place was in the middle, facing the open door onto the back porch, there was quite an expanse of emptiness between him and his hostess. through the door and across the bridge to the kitchen phœbe trotted at minute intervals to bring fresh relays of hot biscuits and buckwheat cakes. the dining-room was rather shabby. the walls were papered in dark brown, and the floor was covered[134] with linoleum. a mahogany sideboard, which took up quite ten feet of one end of the room, looked sadly out of its element. three pictures in tarnished gilt frames hung by thick green cords very close to the ceiling, so that winthrop was spared the necessity of close examination, something which they did not invite. but for all its shabbiness there was something comfortable about the room, something homey that made the old dishes with their chipped edges and half-obliterated ornamentation seem eminently suitable, and that gave winthrop a distinct sensation of pleasure.
he found that, in spite of his previous uncertainty, he was very hungry, and, although he had hard work to keep from grimacing over the first taste of the coffee, he ate heartily and enjoyed it all. and while he ate, holly talked. sometimes he slipped in a word of comment or a question, but they were not necessary so far as holly was concerned. there was something almost exciting for her in the situation.[135] to have an audience who was quite fresh and sympathetic was an event in her life, and there are so many, many things one has to say at eighteen. and winthrop enjoyed it almost as much as holly. her naive views of life amused even while they touched him. she seemed very young for her age, and very unsophisticated after the northern girls winthrop knew. and he found her voice and pronunciation charming, besides. he loved the way she made “i” sound like “ah,” the way she narrowed some vowels and broadened others, her absolute contempt for the letter “r.” the soft drawl of southern speech was new to him, and he found it fascinating. once holly stopped abruptly in the middle of a sentence, laid her left hand palm downwards on the edge of the table and struck her knuckles sharply with the handle of her knife.
“what’s the matter?” inquired winthrop, in surprise.
“punishment,” answered holly, gravely, the chastised hand held against her[136] lips. “you see there are three words that auntie doesn’t like me to use, and when i do use them i rap my knuckles.”
“oh,” smiled winthrop, “and does it help?”
“i don’t reckon it’s helped much yet,” said holly, “but maybe it will. it sure does hurt, though.”
“and may i ask what the words are?”
“one is ‘fiddle.’ does that sound very bad to you?”
“n-no, i think not. what does it signify, please?”
“oh, you just say ‘fiddle’ when—when something happens you don’t like.”
“i see; ‘fiddle;’ yes, quite expressive. and the others?”
“‘shucks’ is one of them.”
“used, i fancy, in much the same sense as ‘fiddle’?”
holly nodded.
“only—only not so much so,” she added.
“certainly not,” replied winthrop. “i understand. for instance, if you fell down[137] stairs you’d say ‘fiddle!’ but if you merely bumped your head you’d say ‘shucks!’”
“yes,” laughed holly.
“and the third prohibited word?” asked winthrop.
“that’s—that’s——” holly bent her head very meekly over her plate—“that’s ‘darnation!’”
“expressive, at least,” laughed winthrop. “that is reserved, i suppose, for such extraordinary occasions as when you fall from a sixth-story window?”
“no; i say that when i stick a needle into my finger,” answered holly. “it seems to suit better than ‘fiddle’ or ‘shucks;’ don’t you think so, mr. winthrop?”
“well, i don’t remember ever having stuck a needle into my finger, but i’ll try it some time and give you my candid opinion on the question.”
after breakfast winthrop wandered out into the garden and from thence into the grove beyond. there were pines and cedars[138] here, and oaks, and other trees which he didn’t know the names of. the gray-green spanish moss draped an occasional limb, and at times there was some underbrush. finding the drive, he followed it toward the gate, but before reaching the latter he struck off again through a clearing and climbed a little knoll on the summit of which a small brick-walled enclosure guarded by three huge oaks attracted his attention and aroused his curiosity. but he didn’t open the little iron gate when he reached it. within the square enclosure were three graves, two close together near at hand, one somewhat removed. from where he leaned across the crumbling wall winthrop could read the inscriptions on the three simple headstones. the farther grave was that of “john wayne, born fairfield, kentucky, feb. 1, 1835; fell at malvern hill, july 1, 1862; interred in this spot july 28, 1862.”
the nearer of the two graves which lay together was that, as winthrop surmised, of holly’s mother. behind the headstone[139] a rose-bush had been planted, and this morning one tiny bloom gleamed wanly in the shadow of the wall. “to the beloved memory of margaret britton, wife of lamar wayne; sept. 3, 1853–jan. 1, 1881. aged 27 years. ‘the balmy zephyrs, silent since her death, lament the ceasing of a sweeter breath.’”
winthrop’s gaze turned to the stone beside it.
“here lies,”—he read—“the body of captain lamar wayne, c. s. a., who was born in fairfield, kentucky, aug, 4, 1842, and died at waynewood, sept. 21, 1892, aged 50 years. ‘happier for me that all our hours assign’d, together we had lived; ev’n not in death disjoined.’”
here, thought winthrop, was hint of a great love. he compared the dates. captain wayne had lived twelve years after his wife’s death. winthrop wondered if those years had seemed long to him. probably not, since he had holly to care for—holly, whom winthrop doubted not, was very greatly like her mother. to have the[140] child spared to him! ah, that was much. winthrop’s eyes lifted from the quiet space before him and sought the distant skyline as his thoughts went to another grave many hundred miles away. a mocking-bird flew into one of the oaks and sang a few tentative notes, and then was silent. winthrop roused himself with a sigh and turned back down the knoll toward the house, which stood smiling amidst its greenery a few hundred yards away.
as he entered the hall he heard holly in converse with aunt venus on the back porch, and as he glanced through the doorway she moved into sight, her form silhouetted against the sunlight glare. but he gave her only a passing thought as he mounted the stairs to his room. the spell of the little graveyard on the knoll and of that other more distant one was still with him, and remained until, having got his hat and cane, he passed through the open gate and turned townward on the red clay road.
major cass was seated in his cushioned[141] arm-chair with his feet on his desk and a sheepskin-covered book spread open on his knees when winthrop obeyed the invitation to enter.
“ah, mr. winthrop, sir, good-morning,” said the major, as he tossed the book on to the desk and climbed to his feet. “your rest has done you good, sir; i can see that. feeling more yourself to-day, eh?”
“quite well, thanks,” answered winthrop, accepting the arm-chair which his host pushed toward him. “i thought i’d come down and hear the verdict and attend to the matter of the rental.”
“yes, yes,” said the major. “very kind of you, sir.”
he limped to a cupboard in one corner and returned with a jug and two not overly clean glasses, which he set on the desk, brushing aside a litter of papers and books. “you will join me, mr. winthrop, in a little liquor, sir, i trust?”
“a very little, then,” answered winthrop. “i’m still under doctor’s orders, you know.”
[142]
“as little as you like,” rejoined the major, courteously, “but we must drink to the success of our conspiracy, sir. the matter is all arranged. miss india was—ah—surprisingly complacent, sir.” the major handed the glass to winthrop with a bow. “your very good health, sir!”
during the subsequent talk, in which the major explained the terms of the bargain as winthrop had already learned them from holly, the visitor was able to look about him. the room was small and square save for the projecting fire-place at one side. a window on the front overlooked the street which led to waynewood, while through another on the side of the building winthrop could see the court-house[143] behind its border of oaks, the stores across the square and, peering from behind the court-house, the end of the palmetto house with its long gallery. it was saturday, and the town looked quite busy. ox-carts, farm wagons drawn by mules, and broken-down buggies crawled or jogged past the window on their way to the hitching-place. in front of the court-house, in the shade, were half-a-dozen carts loaded with bales of cotton, and the owners with samples in hand were making the round of the buyers. the sidewalks were thronged with negroes, and the gay medley of the voices came through the open window.
a set of shelves occupied the end of the room beside the door and were filled to overflowing with yellow law books. the mantel was crowded with filing cases and a few tin boxes. beside the front window a small, old-fashioned safe held more books. besides these there was only the plain oak desk, two chairs and the aforementioned cupboard to be seen, if one excepts[144] the wall decorations in the shape of colored advertisements and calendars and a box filled with sawdust beside the arm-chair. the major had tucked a greenish and very damp cigar in the corner of his mouth, and winthrop soon discovered the necessity for the box.
presently the new rental agreement was signed and the major, after several abortive attempts, flung open the door of the safe and put it carefully away in one of the compartments. then he took up his broad-brimmed black felt hat and reached for his cane.
“and now, mr. winthrop,” he said, “we’ll just take a walk around the town, sir; i’d like you to meet some of our citizens, sir.”
winthrop good-naturedly acquiesced and preceded the major down the stairs. during the next hour-and-a-half winthrop was impressively introduced to and warmly welcomed by some two dozen of corunna’s foremost citizens, from ’squire parish, whom they discovered buying a bale of[145] cotton in the dim recess of his hardware store, to mr. “cad” wilson, who wiped his hand on a towel before reaching it across the bar to add his welcome.
“not one of the aristocracy,” explained the major, as they took their way out after drinking winthrop’s health in bourbon, “but a gentleman at heart, sir, in spite of his business, sir. when in need of liquid refreshment, mr. winthrop, you will find his place the best in town, sir, and you may always depend on receiving courteous treatment.”
the post-office, toward which they bent their steps after breasting mr. “cad” wilson’s swinging doors, proved to be a veritable stamping-ground for corunna’s celebrities. there winthrop was introduced to the reverend mr. fillock, the presbyterian minister; to mr. “ham” somes, the proprietor of the principal drug store; to colonel byers, in from his plantation a few miles outside of town to look up an express shipment, and the postmaster himself, major warren, who displayed an[146] empty sleeve and, as winthrop’s guide explained, still never took a drink without preceding it with the toast, “secession, sah!”
when colonel byers alluded to the missing express package the major chuckled.
“colonel,” he said, “’taint another of those boxes of hardware, is it?”
the colonel laughed and shook his head, and the major turned to winthrop with twinkling eyes.
“you see, mr. winthrop, the colonel got a box of hardware by express some years ago; from savannah, wan’t it, colonel?”
“atlanta, sir.”
“well, anyhow, the colonel was busy and didn’t get into town right away, and one day he got a letter from the express agent, saying: ‘please call for your box of hardware as it’s leaking all over the floor.’”
the colonel appeared to enjoy the story quite as much as the major, and winthrop found their mirth quite as laugh-provoking as the tale.
[147]
“and i have heard that the colonel never got to town in as quick time as he did then!”
“morning, harry,” said the major, turning to the newcomer. “i reckon you heard just about right, harry. i want to introduce you to my friend mr. winthrop, of new york, sir. mr. winthrop, shake hands with mr. bartow. mr. bartow, sir, represents us at the capital.”
“i’m honored to make your acquaintance, sir,” said the honorable mr. bartow. “you are staying with us for awhile, sir?”
“yes, probably for a few months,” replied winthrop.
“good, sir; i am pleased to hear it. you must give me the pleasure of taking dinner with me some day, sir. i’ll get the major to arrange it at your convenience.”
“and bring mr. winthrop out to sunnyside, lucius,” said the colonel. “some sunday would be best, i reckon.”
winthrop accepted the invitations—or perhaps the major did it for him—and after[148] shaking hands with the colonel and the honorable harry bartow he was conducted forth by his guide. their course along the sunlit street was often interrupted, and winthrop’s list of acquaintances grew with each interruption. it was quite evident that being vouched for by major lucius quintus cass stood for a good deal, and in every case winthrop’s welcome was impressively courteous. once or twice the major was stopped by men to whom winthrop was not introduced. after one such occasion the major said, as they went on:
“not one of our kind, mr. winthrop; his acquaintance would be of no benefit, sir.”
winthrop noticed that not once did the major in his introductions allude to the former’s ownership of waynewood. and evidently the major concluded that the fact required elucidation, for when they had finally returned to the corner where stood the major’s office the latter said:
“you may have observed, mr. winthrop, that i have not mentioned your[149] ownership of waynewood. i thought it as well not to, sir, for as you do not intend to take possession this winter there can be no harm in allowing folks to remain in ignorance of—ah—the change. it will make it much easier, sir, for miss india and her niece. you agree with me?”
“entirely,” replied winthrop, suppressing a smile. “we will keep the fact a secret for awhile, major.”
“quite so, sir, quite so. and now, sir, i should be delighted if you would take dinner with me at the hotel, if you will be so kind.”
but winthrop declined and, thanking the other for his kindness, shook hands and turned his steps homeward, or, at least, toward waynewood; he had begun to doubt his possession of that place.
