If I could get out on the roof and shake hands with the stars, or dance
with the man in the moon, I might be able to write it down; but
everything in me is bubbling and singing so, I can't keep still to
write. But I'm bound to put down that he's come. He's come!
He came day before yesterday morning about ten o'clock. I was in the
school-room, and Mrs. Blamire opened the door and looked in. "Mary Cary
can go to the parlor," she said. "Some one wishes to see her."
I got up and went out, not dreaming who it was, as I was only looking
for a letter; and there, standing by a window with his back to me, was a
man, and in a minute I knew.
I couldn't move, and I couldn't speak, and Lot's wife wasn't any stiller
than I was.
But he heard me come in, and turned, and, oh! it is so strange how
right at once you know some things. And the thing I knew was it was all
true. That he'd never known about me until he got my letter. For a
minute he just looked at me. We didn't either of us say a word, and then
he came toward me and held out his hands.
"Mary Cary," he said. And the first thing I knew I was crying fit to
break my heart, with my arms around his neck, and he holding me tight in
his. His eyes were wet, too. They were. I saw them. He kissed me about
fifty times--though maybe not more than twenty--and I had such a strange
feeling I didn't know whether I was in my body or not. It was the first
time that any one who was really truly my own had ever come to see me
since I'd been an Orphan, and every bit of sense I ever had rolled away
like the Red Sea waters. Rolled right away.
I don't remember what happened next. Everything is a jumble of so many
kinds of joys that I've been crazy all day. But I wasn't too crazy to
see the look on his face, I mean on my Uncle Dr. Parke Alden's face,
when he saw Miss Katherine coming across the front yard. We were
standing by the window, and as he saw her he looked again, as if he
didn't see good, and then his face got as white as whitewash. He took
out his handkerchief and wiped his lips and his forehead that were real
perspiring, and I almost danced for joy, for I knew in his secret,
secret heart she was his sweetheart still. But I didn't move even a toe.
I just said:
"That's Miss Katherine Trent. She's the trained nurse here. Did you know
her when she lived in Yorkburg?"
And he said yes, he knew her. Just that, and nothing else. But I knew,
and for fear I'd tell him I knew, I flew out of the room like I was
having a fit, and met Miss Katherine coming in the front door.
"Miss Katherine," I said, "there's a friend of yours in the parlor who
wants to see you. Will you go in?"
She walked in, just as natural, humming a little tune, and I walked
behind her, for I wanted to see it. I will never be as ready for glory
as I was that minute. I could have folded my hands and sailed up, but I
didn't sail. It's well I didn't, for they didn't meet at all like I
expected, and I was so surprised I just said, "Well, sir!" and sat right
down on the floor and looked up at them.
They didn't see me. They didn't see anything but each other; but if
they'd had the smallpox they couldn't have kept farther apart, just
bowing formal, and not even offering to shake hands.
My, I was set on! I didn't think they'd meet that way; but Miss Becky
Cole, who's kinder crazy, says God Almighty don't know what a woman is
going to do or when she's going to do it. Miss Katherine proved it. She
didn't fool me, though, with all her quietness and coolness. I knew her
heart was beating as hard as mine, and I jumped up and said:
"I think you all have been waiting long enough to make up, and it's no
use wasting any more time." And I flew out, slamming the door tight, and
shut them in.
I don't know what happened after I shut that door. But, oh, he's grand!
He is thirty-six, and big and splendid. He and Miss Katherine are in the
parlor now. Miss Jones says everybody in Yorkburg knows he's here, and
all talking. All!
I've been so excited since the first day he came that I've had little
sense. But my natural little is coming back, and I'm trying not to talk
too much. Of course, I had to say a good deal, because everybody had to
know how it happened that Doctor Alden came back to Yorkburg so suddenly
after thirteen years' being away. And why he hadn't been before, and
what he came for and when he was going away, and if he were going to
take me with him.
And then everybody remembered how he and Miss Katherine used to be
sweethearts when they were young. I tell you, the talking that's been
going on in Yorkburg in the last few days would fill a barrel of books.
By the end of the week a whole lot more will be known about Uncle Parke
than he knows about himself. If Yorkburg had a coat of arms it ought to
be a question-mark.
They've had time to talk over everything that ever happened since Adam
and Eve left Paradise, in the long walks they take, and in the evenings
when he calls, which he does as regular as night comes. And now I'm
waiting for the news. I'll have to be so surprised. And I guess I will
be. Love does very surprising things.
Miss Katherine knew where Uncle Parke was all the time. She knew who I
was, too; that is, she found out after she nursed me at the hospital.
But what that fuss was about I don't know. Nothing much, I reckon; but
the more you love a person the madder you can get with them. And from
foolishness they've wasted years and years of together-ness.
But it's all explained now, and I don't think there's going to be any
more nonsense. They are going to be married as sure as my name isn't in
a bank-book; and if signs are anything, it's going to be soon.
Miss Bray is better, though she looks pretty bad still. She's been
awfully excited about Uncle Parke's coming, and she says she hears he's
very distinguished and real rich. Isn't it strange how quick some people
hear about riches? I don't know anything of his having any. He hasn't
mentioned money to me; but oh, I feel so safe with him! He's so strong
and quiet and easy in his manners, and he's been so splendid and
beautiful to me. He don't use many words. Just makes you understand.
I wonder what a man says to a lady when he wants her to marry him? I
know Dr. Parke Alden isn't the kind to get down on his knees. If he
were, Miss Katherine would certainly tell him to get up and say what he
had to say standing, or sitting, if it took long. But I'll never know
what he said. They're not the kind to tell; but they can't hide Love.
It's just like the sun. It can't help shining.
* * * * *
Land of Nippon, I'm excited! I believe he's said it!
The reason I think so is, I saw them late yesterday evening coming in
from a long walk down the Calverton road, where there's a beautiful
place for courters. When they got to the gate they stopped and talked
and talked. Then he walked to the door with her, still holding his hat
in his hand, and though it was dark I could feel something different. I
was so nervous you would have thought I was the one.
I was over by the lilacs; but they didn't see me. I didn't like to move.
It might have been ruinous, so I held my breath and waited.
When they got to the door they stopped again, and presently he held out
his hand to say good-bye. The way he did it, the way he looked at her
made me just know, and I got right down on my knees under the
lilac-bush, and when he'd gone I sang, "Praise God, from whom all
blessings flow." Sang it loud.
I didn't care who heard. I wasn't telling why I was thankful. Just
telling I was. Oh, Mary Martha Cary, to think of her being your really,
truly Aunt! The very next thing to a mother!