"He told me to go home and change my clothes, and then go to meeting; but I came here instead."
"Why did you do that?"
"To see you, of course."
"Pooh, as if I was anything to look at."
"Well, you are, Carlia," and his eyes rested steadily on her to prove his contention. "Why didn"t you want to go to meeting this evening?"
"You heard me tell father."
"That wasn"t the whole truth. I was not the reason because you had decided not to go before I came."
"Well--how do you know that? but, anyway, it"s none of your business, where I go, is it?" She made an effort to stare him out of countenance, but it ended in lowered head and eyes.
"Carlia! No, of course, it isn"t. Excuse me for asking."
There was another period of silence wherein Dorian again wondered at the girl"s strange behavior. Was he annoying her? Perhaps she did not care to have him paying his crude attentions to her; and yet--
"Tell me about your dry farm," she said.
"I"ve already plowed eighty acres," he informed her. "The land is rich, and I expect to raise a big crop next year. I"ve quite a cosy house, up there, not far from the creek. The summer evenings are lovely and cool.
I can"t get mother to stay over night. I wish you would come and go with her, and stay a few days."
"How could I stay away from home that long? The heavens would fall."
"Well, that might help some. But, honestly, Carlia, you ought to get away from this grind a little. It"s telling on you. Don"t you ever get into the city?"
"Sometimes Sat.u.r.day afternoons to deliver b.u.t.ter and eggs."
"Well, some Sat.u.r.day we"ll go to see that moving picture show that"s recently started in town. They say it"s wonderful. I"ve never been.
We"ll go together. What do you say?"
"I would like to."
"Let"s move on. Meeting is out, and the folks are coming home."
They walked slowly back to the house. Mr. and Mrs. Duke soon arrived and told of the splendid meeting they had had.
"Uncle Zed spoke," said Mr. Duke, "and he did well, as usual. He"s a regular Orson Pratt."
"The people do not know it," added Dorian; "perhaps their children or their children"s children will."
"Well, what have you two been doing?" enquired the father of Carlia.
"We"ve just been taking a walk," answered Dorian. "Will it be alright if Carlia and I go to the new moving picture theatre in town some Sat.u.r.day?"
Neither parent made any objection. They were, in fact, glad to have this neighbor boy show some interest in their daughter.
"Your mother was at meeting," said Mrs. Duke; "and she was asking about you."
"Yes; I"ve neglected her all afternoon; so I must be off. Good night folks."
Carlia went with him to the gate, slipping her arm into his and snuggling closely as if to get the protection of good comradship. The movement was not lost on Dorian, but he lingered only for a moment.
"Goodnight, Carlia; remember, some Sat.u.r.day."
"I"ll not forget. Goodnight" she looked furtively up and down the road, then sped back into the house.
Dorian walked on in the darkening evening. A block or so down the road he came on to an automobile. No one in Greenstreet owned one of these machines as yet, and there were but few in the city. As Dorian approached, he saw a young man working with the machinery under the lifted hood.
"h.e.l.lo," greeted Dorian, "what"s the trouble?"
"d.a.m.ned if I know. Been stalled here for an hour." The speaker straightened from his work. His hands were grimy, and the sweat was running down his red and angry face. He held tightly the stump of a cigarette between his lips.
"I"m sorry I can"t help you," said Dorian, "but I don"t know the first thing about an automobile."
"Well, I thought I knew a lot, but this gets me." He swore again, as if to impress Dorian with the true condition of his feelings. Then he went at the machinery again with pliers and wrenches, after which he vigorously turned the crank. The engine started with a wheeze and then a roar. The driver leaped into the car and brought the racing engine to a smoother running. "The cursed thing" he remarked, "why couldn"t it have done that an hour ago. O, say, excuse me, have you just been at the house up the road?"
"The Duke house? yes."
"Is the old man--is Mr. Duke at home?"
"Yes; he"s at home."
"Thank you." The car moved slowly up the road until it reached the Duke gate where it stopped; but only for a moment, for it turned and sped with increasing hurry along the road leading to the city.
Dorian stood and watched it until its red light disappeared. He wondered why the stranger wanted to know why Mr. Duke was at home, then on learning that he was, why he turned about as if he had no business with him.
Later, Dorian learned the reason.
CHAPTER NINE.
Dorian was twenty-one years old, and his mother had planned a little party in honor of the event. The invited guests were Uncle Zed, Bishop Johnson and wife, the teacher of the district school, and Carlia Duke.
These arrived during the dusk of the evening, all but Carlia. They lingered on the cool lawn under the colored glow of the Chinese lanterns.
Mrs. Trent realized that it would be useless to make the party a surprise, for she had to have Dorian"s help in hanging out the lanterns, and he would necessarily see the unusual activity in front room and kitchen. Moreover, Dorian, unlike Uncle Zed, had not lost track of his birthdays, and especially this one which would make him a full-fledged citizen of these United States.
The little party chatted on general topics for some time until Mrs.
Trent, in big white ap.r.o.n, announced that supper was ready, and would they all come right in. Mrs. Trent always served her refreshments at the regular supper time and not near midnight, for she claimed that people of regular habits, which her guests were, are much better off by not having those habits broken into.
"Are we all here?" she asked, scanning them as they pa.s.sed in. "All but Carlia," she announced. "Where"s Carlia?"
No one knew. Someone proffered the explanation that she was usually late as she had so many ch.o.r.es to do, at which the Bishop"s wife shook her head knowingly, but said nothing.