They went satirically down the street, their chumminess with one another
bountifully increased by their common derision of the outsider on the
porch; and even at a distance they still contrived to make themselves
intolerable; looking back over their shoulders, at intervals, with
say-not-so expressions on their faces. Even when these faces were far
enough away to be but yellowish oval planes, their say-not-so
expressions were still bitingly eloquent.
Now a northern breeze chilled the air, as the hateful three became
indistinguishable in the haze of autumn dusk, whereupon Florence stopped
swinging her foot, left the railing, and went morosely into the house.
And here it was her fortune to make two discoveries vital to her present
career; the first arising out of a conversation between her father and
mother in the library, where a gossipy fire of soft coal encouraged this
proper Sunday afternoon entertainment for man and wife.
"Sit down and rest, Florence," said her mother. "I'm afraid you play too
hard when Patty and the boys are here. Do sit down quietly and rest
yourself a little while." And as Florence obeyed, Mrs. Atwater turned to
her husband, resuming: "Well, that's what _I_ said. I told Aunt Carrie I
thought the same way about it that _you_ did. Of course nobody _ever_
knows what Julia's going to do next, and nobody needs to be surprised at
anything she does do. Ever since she came home from school, about
four-fifths of all the young men in town have been wild about her--and
so's every old bachelor, for the matter of that!"
"Yes," Mr. Atwater added. "And every old widower, too."
His wife warmly accepted the amendment. "And every old widower, too,"
she said, nodding. "Rather! And of course Julia's just done exactly as
she pleased about everything, and naturally she's going to do as she
pleases about _this_."
"Well, of course it's her own affair, Mollie," Mr. Atwater said mildly.
"She couldn't be expected to consult the whole Atwater family connection
before she----"
"Oh, no," she agreed. "I don't say she could. Still, it _is_ rather
upsetting, coming so suddenly like this, when not one of the family has
ever seen him--never even heard his very name before."
[Illustration: _"'Well, men ... I don't want to see any loafin' around
here, men. I expect I'll have a pretty good newspaper this week.'"_]
"Well, that part of it isn't especially strange, Mollie. He was born and
brought up in a town three hundred miles from here. I don't see just how
we _could_ have heard his name unless he visited here or got into the
papers in some way."
Mrs. Atwater seemed unwilling to yield a mysterious point. She rocked
decorously in her rocking-chair, shook her head, and after setting her
lips rigidly, opened them to insist that she could never change her
mind: Julia had acted very abruptly. "Why couldn't she have let her poor
father know at least a _few_ days before she did?"
Mr. Atwater sighed. "Why, she explains in her letter that she only knew
it, herself, an hour before she wrote."
"Her poor father!" his wife repeated commiseratingly.
"Why, Mollie, I don't see how father's especially to be pitied."
"Don't you?" said Mrs. Atwater. "That old man, to have to live in that
big house all alone, except a few negro servants?"
"Why, no! About half the houses in the neighbourhood, up and down the
street, are fully occupied by close relatives of his: I doubt if he'll
be really as lonely as he'd like to be. And he's often said he'd give a
great deal if Julia had been a plain, unpopular girl. I'm strongly of
the opinion, myself, that he'll be pleased about this. Of course it may
upset him a little at first."
"Yes; I think it will!" Mrs. Atwater shook her head forebodingly. "And
he isn't the only one it's going to upset."
"No, he isn't," her husband admitted seriously. "That's always been the
trouble with Julia; she never could bear to seem disappointing; and so,
of course, I suppose every one of 'em has a special idea that he's
really about the top of the list with her."
"Every last one of 'em is positive of it," said Mrs. Atwater. "That was
Julia's way with 'em!"
"Yes, Julia's always been much too kind-hearted for other people's
good." Thus Mr. Atwater summed up Julia; and he was her brother.
Additionally, since he was the older, he had known her since her birth.
"If you ask _me_," said his wife, "I'll really be surprised if it all
goes through without a suicide."
"Oh, not quite suicide, perhaps," Mr. Atwater protested. "I'm glad it's
a fairly dry town though."