the foundation for the court-house was soon laid. the county officials had announced to cavanaugh that a day had been appointed for a ceremonious laying of a corner-stone, to which all the countryside had been invited. a block of marble properly marked and dated was ordered and came. the occasion was to be a great one. a brass band was expected from a near-by town. there was to be a barbecue, with speeches and singing from a hastily improvised platform.
john himself supervised the construction of the platform and the long tables upon which the food was to be served.
the day arrived. the weather was most favorable, there being cool breezes from the mountains and sufficient clouds to shut off the heat of the sun. the speakers' stand was hung with flags and decorated with flowers and evergreens. long trenches had been dug in the earth. fires had been going in them all day. the dry hickory wood was reduced to live coals and the pork, beef, and lamb were suspended over them. negro men, expert in the work, were busy turning and basting the meat, the aroma of which floated on the air. a little organ from a near-by church had been placed amid some chairs for choir-singers, and then john discovered that tilly was expected to play the instrument.
"the regular organist is away," cavanaugh explained to john, "but i'll bet our little girl will do it all right."
john said nothing, for he had caught sight of tilly[pg 47] seated with her mother in the front row of benches. she was dressed in white muslin from head to foot. she wore a cheap sailor straw hat he had never seen her wear before, and some flowers were pinned on her breast. the whiteness of her attire seemed to accentuate the rare pinkness of her face, which deepened as she caught his stealthy glance. she was the last of the choir to take her place, the others being seated when she finally went forward, seated herself on the organ-stool, and began to look over the music. how calm and unruffled she seemed to john! on the platform sat a candidate for the governorship of the state, several ministers, the ordinary of the county, the sheriff, an ex-judge, and several other men of prominence, and yet in the eyes of the younger spectators john trott, who was to place and seal the stone, and stood with a new trowel in his hand, was the most envied person there. he was well dressed, good-looking, possessed with a forceful demeanor, and it was rumored that he was a mason who could demand any wages he liked. it was little wonder that poor young farmers who lived from hand to mouth to eke out an existence should deem him most fortunate, and that the girls should regard him with favor.
john was young; he was human, and he was experiencing a sort of new birth. aside from cavanaugh, no one present knew of his mother's reputation or of the social wall between him and the citizens of ridgeville, and here to-day he was being treated as he had never been treated before. he felt strangely, buoyantly, at his ease. he was too happy to analyze his wonderful transition. he wanted to do his part well, not chiefly on account of cavanaugh and the contract, or the dignitaries about him, but it must be admitted that above all he was considering tilly. it[pg 48] pleased the poor boy to think of her as conducting the music, and of himself as having charge of the other details. there was a vague, new, and even confident dignity about his erect figure, face, and tone of voice as he directed the laborers to bring the corner-stone forward. there was a square cavity in the stone into which souvenirs were to be placed, and it devolved upon john to collect them from the audience. he did it well. he was a man drawn out of an old environment by the dazzling experience of being in love. a copy of a fresh issue of the county weekly was handed to him by the paper's editor; the ordinary contributed a photograph of the old court-house, some one else put in a sheet containing the autographs of leading citizens, and there were coins and various trinkets of more or less historic significance. john placed them in the cavity, and under the eyes of all began to close the opening. his new trowel tinkled softly as he worked in the dead silence on all sides. when it was finished the band played. there was much applause, and then the choir sang. during this part of the program john had a chance to look at tilly without being seen by her. she sat very erectly at the organ, unabashed, unperturbed. john, even from where he stood at one side, saw the red welt on her hand. he told himself, sentimentally, that those were the same little hands which churned daily, washed dishes, made fires in the range, washed, hung out, and ironed clothes, and he marveled. once as she turned a page of the music-book she looked at him, seemed in a flash to sense his admiration, and dropped her eyes. something came into her face which he could not have described, but it played there for an instant like a beam of rose-colored light, and he throbbed and thrilled in his whole being.
the speeches passed off. the band played again and[pg 49] john was asked by the ordinary to announce that the barbecue was ready to be served at the tables.
john had never spoken in public, and yet to-day a new daring possessed him. quite unperturbed, he rang his trowel on the corner-stone till quiet was restored, and then, with a half-jest, appropriately worded, he made the announcement. immediately the audience was on its feet and surging toward the aromatic trenches and tables. the platform was soon vacated, and john saw tilly alone at the organ, putting up the music-books. he longed to go to her, but a vast and sudden embarrassment checked him. he started, but stopped and pretended to be inspecting the corner-stone. she was behind him now, but she was the light and breath of his new existence and he half saw, half felt her presence. he told himself that she must think him an awkward fool, and yet he could not approach her.
suddenly he saw something for which he was not prepared. a tall, thin young man with a scant brown mustache and rather long hair, who was tanned like a farmer, and who had large, coarse hands and wore a frock-coat which was thick enough for winter, was stepping upon the platform and approaching tilly.
"you must come get some of the barbecue," he said. "you are doing most of the work and must be fed. i saw your ma and pa over at the first table."
"i'm not very hungry, joel," john heard tilly say, and from the corner of his eyes he saw that she was shaking hands with the young man. a moment later they were passing close behind john. he knew that to pretend still to be inspecting the corner-stone would be absurd and so he turned and faced the couple. tilly smiled, nodded, and glanced at the stone.
"it is very pretty," she said, pausing and looking at[pg 50] the work he had done. "this is my friend, mr. joel eperson—mr. trott," she added.
the hands of two laboring-men met and swung up and down before the little maid. "pleased to meet you," both men said, and they stared at each other, dumb, concealed thoughts in the depths of their eyes.
"you ran that singing all right." john dug the words from his perturbed self-consciousness. "it went off fine."
"yes, you certainly did that," the young farmer agreed. "you all must have met and practised."
"only once, last night," tilly said. "we met at the church."
"we are going to get some of that barbecue," eperson said, rather stiffly, to john. "won't you come along with us? i've got two places reserved and can easily make room for another."
"two places reserved!" the words had an unpleasant sound to john. evidently the fellow had been counting on eating with tilly even before he invited her. john hesitated. he noticed that tilly had nothing to say, and that irritated him.
"oh, i'm not a bit hungry," he answered, now in his old, rough, ridgeville way, and he frowned.
"well, you might come and see the rest of the animals fed," eperson jested. "i'd like to talk to you. tilly wrote me about you coming. i certainly would like to have a job like yours. farming has gone to pieces in this section."
tilly had written him. again john was conscious of irritation and a strange, deep-seated uneasiness. were the two on such terms of familiarity that they exchanged letters while living so near together? john was still hesitating[pg 51] when cavanaugh suddenly elbowed his way through the surging throng to his side.
"they expect you and me to set at the ordinary's table along with the speakers," he announced, momentously. "i've been looking for you all about."
"we just asked him to go with us, mr. cavanaugh," tilly said, "but of course, if the ordinary wants him we'll have to excuse him." she introduced eperson, and cavanaugh smiled.
"i've heard about mr. eperson already," he said. "and i'll tell 'im to his face that he has fine taste and knows a good thing in the female line when he sees it."
the young farmer flushed red and smiled, but tilly's face was unchanged. "i see you are a tease," she said, indifferently. "well, we'd better be going."
john felt cavanaugh grasp his arm and begin to lead him through the crowd toward a distant table which was smaller than the others and at which several local dignitaries were seated.
"we might as well give them young turtle-doves a chance to coo on a perch by themselves," the contractor said, with a low chuckle. "i understand the fellow don't get many chances to see his girl. they say he has been in love with her ever since he was a little boy, but old whaley don't seem to like him. they say the old chap has shut down on eperson's visits—don't let 'im come around as often as he used to. i reckon to-day is one of the fellow's chances to see her. my! what a nice little trick she is! and take it from me—she deserves a better fate than to marry a slow-going farmer like that one. she'd just change one life of drudgery for another."
as if in a tantalizing dream, john heard these things as he walked along, still tightly clutched by his old friend.[pg 52] he told himself that it was incredible that he should care so much about the affairs of a simple country girl whom he had known such a short time, but the startling fact remained and haunted him.
they found their places at the table and sat down. the ordinary, a genial man of middle age, with a full brown beard, had a big jug of fresh cider in front of him and was filling some tin cups with the amber fluid.
"we are going to drink to the health and success of these two gentlemen," he announced, when every one at the table had received his cup of the beverage. "they are both agreeable men and are an honor to our community. moreover, i am satisfied that they are going to give us the finest public building for the money in the state."
they all drank standing, and, as they resumed their seats, they glanced at cavanaugh as if expecting a response from him.
"i am much obliged," cavanaugh stammered. "i can't make a speech or i'd tell you how tickled i am by your compliment, and my young friend on my right is, too. we are combining business and pleasure on this jaunt and are having a fine time."
john was gloomily unconscious of the fact that he, too, was expected to say something. seeing cavanaugh sit down, he did likewise. he was watching eperson and tilly, who at one of the long tables near by sat facing him. eperson was bending eagerly toward her, smiling and saying something in her ear. tilly seemed to be listening, for she was smiling also. farther down the same table sat her father and mother. whaley had a plate heaped high with the meat and its accompanying peppery relish, and was eating voraciously. mrs. whaley was chatting[pg 53] with a woman at her side and scarcely eating at all. the brass band was playing, there was a great clatter of knives and forks and tin cider-cups. john was in one of his surliest moods. he was really hungry enough to have enjoyed the feast, but his thoughts kept him from doing so. presently he managed to slip away from the table, and found himself alone. he wandered aimlessly about the foundation of the new building, trying to make himself believe that he was inspecting the work already done. the band had ceased playing. the crowd of white citizens was thinning out, and the negroes were falling into the vacant places at the tables. john saw cavanaugh and the elder whaleys trudging homeward. where was tilly? he wondered. then he saw eperson driving a poor horse drawing a ramshackle buggy around from the public hitching-rack. tilly stood waiting for him alone on the edge of the sidewalk. eperson got out, helped her into the seat, and then got in beside her and drove her homeward.
john lingered about the foundations for half an hour. then he saw eperson returning in the buggy alone. he had to pass close to where john stood, but john refused to look up as he went by and turned into the country road. there was a vague look of placid content on the earnest face of the man which portended things john dared not think about.[pg 54]
