"Then stay there, for you"ve made it for yourself," she answered, and turned away from him. As his voice called her again, she broke into a run, flying before him over the green meadow until she reached the lawn of Jordan"s Journey, and his pursuit ended. Then, hurrying through the orchard and up the flagged walk, she ascended the steps, and bent over Reuben in his chair.
"Grandfather, I am back. Are you asleep?"
The robin that had flown from the railing at her approach swung on the bough of an apple-tree and regarded her with attention.
"Grandfather," she said again, touching him, "oh, grandfather, wake up!"
CHAPTER XX
LIFE"S IRONIES
When he came down to breakfast next morning, Abel heard of Reuben"s death from his mother.
"Well, you can"t tell who"s goin" to be the next," she concluded grimly, as she poured the coffee.
In spite of her austere manner and her philosophical plat.i.tude, Sarah was more moved in her heart than she had dared to confess. From the moment that she had heard of Reuben"s death--when she had gone over with some of her mourning to offer Molly--she had ceased to think of him as an old man, and her mind had dwelt upon him as one who had been ruthlessly cut off in his prime--as he might have been had the end come some thirty or forty years before. Memory, that great miracle worker, had contrived to produce this illusion; and all Sarah"s hard common sense could not prevent her feeling an indignant pity because Reuben"s possibilities of happiness had been unfulfilled. Trouble after trouble and never anything to make up for them, and then to go this way while he was resting! "It"s like that," she thought bitterly to herself, alluding to life. "It"s like that!" And it seemed to her suddenly that the whole of existence was but a continual demonstration of the strong religious dogmas on which her house of faith had been reared. When you looked around you, she thought, with triumph, there wasn"t any explanation of the seeming injustice except original sin. There was a strange comfort in this conviction, as though it represented the single reality to which she could cling amid the mutable deceptions of life. "Thar wouldn"t be any sense in it if "twarn"t for that," she would sometimes say to herself, as one who draws strength from a secret source of refreshment.
In Abel the news of Reuben"s death awoke a different emotion, and his first thought was of Molly. He longed to comfort her in his arms, and the memory of the quarrel of yesterday and even of the kiss that led to it seemed to increase rather than diminish this longing.
Rising from his untasted breakfast, he hurriedly swallowed a cup of coffee and took up his hat.
"I am going to see Molly, mother; would you like to send a message?"
Blossom, who was gazing out of the window with her eyes full of dreams, turned at his words.
"Give her my love, Abel," she said.
"Tell her he was a good man and had fewer sins to his account than most of us," added Sarah.
"Did you know, Abel, that old Mr. Jonathan left her ten thousand dollars a year as long as she lives with the Gays?" asked Blossom, coming over to where he stood.
He stared at her in amazement. "Where on earth did you hear that?" he asked.
A flush reddened her face.
"Somebody told me. I forget just who it was," she replied.
"When did it happen? How long have you known it?"
But she was on her guard now, wrapped in that soft, pale reticence which was the spiritual aspect of her beauty.
"It may have been only one of the darkies" stories. I didn"t pay much attention to it," she answered, and busied herself about the geraniums in the window.
"Oh, you can"t put any faith in the darkies" tales," rejoined Abel, and after leaving a message with his mother for a farmer with whom he had an appointment, he hastened out of the house and over the fields in the direction of Reuben Merryweather"s cottage. Here, where he had expected to find Molly, Kesiah met him, with some long black things over her arm, and a frown of anxious sympathy on her face.
"The child is broken-hearted," she said with dignity, for a funeral was one of the few occasions upon which she felt that she appeared to advantage. "I don"t think she can see you--but I"ll go in and ask, if you wish it."
She went in, returning a minute later, with the black things still over her arm, and a deeper frown on her forehead.
"No--I"m sorry, but she doesn"t wish to see any one. You know, the old hound died the same night, and that has added to her sorrow."
"Perhaps if I come back later?"
"Perhaps; I am not sure. As soon as the funeral is over she will come to us. You have heard, I suppose, of the change in--in her circ.u.mstances?"
"Then it is true? I heard it, but I didn"t believe it."
Molly had fled suddenly into remoteness--not Reuben"s death, but Mr.
Jonathan"s "provision," had swept her away from him. Like other mortals in other crises of experience, she was aware of a helpless, a rebellious, realization of the power, not of fate, but of money. No other accident of fortune could have detached her so completely from the surroundings in which he had known her. Though he told himself that to think of wealth as a thing to separate them was to show a sordid brutality of soul, he revolted the next instant from the idea that his love should demand so great a sacrifice. Like the majority of men who have risen to comparative comfort out of bitter poverty, he had at the same time a profound contempt and an inordinate respect for the tangible fact of money--a contempt for the mere value of the dollar and a respect for the ability to take stands of which that mystic figure was the symbol. Sarah"s hard common sense, overlaid as it was by an embroidery of sentiments and emotions, still const.i.tuted the basic quality in his character, and Sarah would have been the last woman in the world to think lightly of renouncing--or of inviting another to renounce--an income of ten thousand dollars a year. _He_ might dream that love would bring happiness, but she was reasonably a.s.sured that money would bring comfort. Between the dream and the a.s.surance there would have been, in Sarah"s mind at least, small room left for choice. He had known few women, and for one dreadful minute he asked himself, pa.s.sionately, if Molly and his mother could be alike?
Unconsciously to himself his voice when he spoke again had lost its ring of conviction.
"Perhaps I may see her later?" he repeated.
"The funeral will be to-morrow. You will be there?"
"Yes, I"ll be there," he replied; and then because there was nothing further for him to say, he bowed over his hat, and went down the flagged walk to the orchard, where the bluebirds were still singing. His misery appeared to him colossal--of a size that overshadowed not only the spring landscape, but life itself. He tried to remember a time when he was happy, but this was beyond the stretch of his imagination at the moment, and it seemed to him that he had plodded on year after year with a leaden weight oppressing his heart.
"I might have known it would be like this," he was thinking. "First, I wanted the mill, so I"d lie awake at night about it, and then when I got it all the machinery was worn out. It"s always that way and always will be, I reckon." And it appeared to him that this terrible law of incompleteness lay like a blight over the over the whole field of human endeavour. He saw Molly, fair and fitting as she had been yesterday after the quarrel, and he told himself pa.s.sionately that he wanted her too much ever to win her. On the ground by the brook he saw the spray of last year"s golden-rod, and the sight brought her back to him with a vividness that set his pulses drumming. In his heart he cursed Mr.
Jonathan"s atonement more fervently than he had ever cursed his sin.
The next day he went to Reuben"s funeral, with his mother and Blossom at his side, walking slowly across the moist fields, in which the vivid green of the spring showed like patches of velvet on a garment of dingy cloth. In front of him his mother moved stiffly in her widow"s weeds, which she still wore on occasions of ceremony, and in spite of her sincere sorrow for Reuben she cast a sharp eye more than once on the hem of her alpaca skirt, which showed a brown stain where she had allowed it to drag in a forgetful moment. Only Archie was absent, but that was merely because he had driven over to bring one of the Halloween girls in Abel"s gig. Sarah had heard him whistling in the stable at daybreak, and looking out of the window a little later she had seen him oiling the wheels of the vehicle. It had been decided at supper the evening before that the family as a unit should pay its respects to Reuben. From Sarah, comforting herself behind her widow"s weeds with the doctrine of original sin, to Archie, eager to give his sweetheart a drive, one and all had been moved by a genuine impulse to dignify as far as lay in their power the ceremonial of decay. Even Abner, the silent, had remarked that he"d "never heard a word said against Reuben Merryweather in his life." And now at the end of that life the neighbours had gathered amid the ridges of green graves in the churchyard to bear witness to the removal of a good man from a place in which he had been honoured.
During the service Abel kept his eyes on Molly, who came leaning on Gay"s arm, and wearing what appeared to him a stifling amount of fashionable mourning. He was too ignorant in such matters to discern that the fashion was one of an earlier date, or that the mourning had been hastily gathered from cedar chests by Kesiah. The impression he seized and carried away was one of elegance and remoteness; and the little lonely figure in the midst of the green ridges bore no relation in his mind to the girl in the red jacket, who had responded so ardently to his kiss. The sunlight falling in flecks through the network of locust boughs deepened the sense of unreality with which he watched her.
"It"s a good service as such ready-made things go," observed Sarah as they went homeward, "but it seems to me that a man as upright as Reuben was is ent.i.tled to a sermon bein" preached about him when he"s laid in his grave. What"s the difference between the good man and the bad, if you"re goin" to say the same words over the one and the other? I ain"t a friend to flattery, but it can"t hurt a man to have a few compliments paid him in the churchyard, and when all"s said an" done, "lookin" for the general Resurrection" can"t be construed into a personal compliment to Reuben."
"When a man has been as pious as that he hasn"t any use for compliments, livin" or dead," rejoined Abner.
"Well, I ain"t contendin"," replied his mother. "The Lord knows thar ain"t any of his kind left, the mo" "s the pity! Things have changed sence Reuben an" I was young, an" the very language Abel an" Blossom speak is different from ours. I reckon if old Mr. Jonathan was to ride along these roads to-day thar wouldn"t be anybody, unless it was a n.i.g.g.e.r, to open the gate for him."
"You bet there wouldn"t!" exclaimed Abel with fervour.
Abner, walking at Sarah"s side, wore the unnerved and anxious expression of a man who is conscious that he is wearing his Sunday suit when it has grown too small to contain him. His agony was so evident that Blossom, observing it in the midst of her sentimental disturbances, remarked affectionately that he looked as if he "were tired to death."
"I"ve got the church fidgets in my legs," he said. "I reckon I"ll get into my everyday suit an" finish that piece of ploughin". Are you goin"
back to the mill, Abel?"
"No, I"ve shut down for the day," Abel replied. The funeral had turned his mind into its Sunday habit of thought and he was determined that his present state of misery should extend reverently until the evening. From some instinct, which he did not attempt to explain, it appeared more respectful to Reuben to sit idle for the rest of the day than to follow Abner"s example and go out and finish his work.
The next morning he decided to write Molly a letter, and as the ordinary paper his mother kept at the house seemed unsuitable for delivery at Jordan"s Journey, he walked down to the store to purchase a few sheets from Mrs. Bottoms.
"Nothing common and cheap," he said, "but the very best you have in the store--such as they use in the city."
Suspecting his purpose, she produced at once a turquoise coloured box, from which she extracted an envelope that was ornamented on the flap with a white dove holding a true lover"s knot in his beak.