"Mr. Wright," says he at last, "that's why I come to you first! I was
conscious of them ten million cocktails--it's nearer ten million than
ten thousand, I reckon, in my business. It seemed to me fairer to talk
to you first. I'm not apt to forget her very soon--I'm not apt to look
at any woman at all. I reckon I don't want to get married if I can't
marry her. Maybe it ain't fair for a man at my time of life and way of
life to think of marrying a girl like her. I reckon I been selfish. I
reckon maybe you set me right."
"Where did you come from?" says Old Man Wright.
"The South," says he.
"I know that; but what state?"
"Kentucky," says he. "I been living here a great many years."
"You're a gentleman, Mr. Henderson," says Old Man Wright. "I wisht
things wasn't just the way they are. But now, on the level, do you think
we'd better say anything to Bonnie Bell at all about this here?"
Henderson must have thought it over quite a while. Then I heard him take
a step or so. Maybe he picked up his hat. Maybe his cane knocked against
a chair. Maybe they shook hands.
"I don't want to do anything that isn't best for her," says he at last.
"I reckon maybe I ain't a good-enough man to marry her. I reckon maybe
you're right, sir," says he.
Old Man Wright he don't talk no more for a little while. I heard them
walk toward the door.
"No," says he at length. "Mr. Henderson, I don't reckon we'll say
anything about this to Bonnie Bell after all. Good-by, sir. I wish I
could ast you to come here often."
"Good-by," says he.
I seen him go down the walk after a while. He forgot all about his car
waiting by the sidewalk and walked half a block before he come to. Of
course, he couldn't come to see us no more after that.
As for me, I didn't have no friends either. Jimmie the hired man was
about the only friend around there I cared much for, and now he was
gone--fired, I supposed. Times got even lonesomer than ever.
Bonnie Bell come in the room where I was setting one day, and she set
down on the lounge and put her chin in her hand and taken a look out the
window. I ast her what was up.
"Well," says she, "I was just wondering about the seeds for them big
flower beds we've been making," says she. "I'll be wanting to plant them
next spring, at least. If I had some experienced man that knew about
flowers now--"
"Why don't you go down to the park," says I, "and talk to some of them
Dutch gardeners that raises the flower beds down there? They'll know all
about them things," says I.
"Curly," says she, "you're only a cowpuncher, ain't you?"
"That's all," says I.
"Well, that accounts for you not having no sense at all," says she.
X