CHAPTER IX.--JIMMY.

"Judy, Mrs. Woodsmall has just 'phoned over that her hated R. F. D.

Woodsmall is bringing you a letter from your father. She says she could

only make out it was from him, but could not decipher anything else. She

has an idea he is on his way, as the postmark showed it was mailed on

the train somewhere in Kansas. Isn't she too funny? She makes some of

the neighbors furious, but we always laugh at her little idiosyncrasy.

After all, it is perfectly harmless. She really is as kind a little soul

as there is in the county. Her life has been so narrow. If she could

have been a real worker in a big city she might have grown into a very

remarkable person. What a detective she would have made!"

Judy yawned and stretched and sat up as Molly came in bearing a tray of

lunch for her tired friend as well as the news of a letter from Mr.

Kean, somewhere on the road, and to be delivered some time that day if

Bud Woodsmall's automobile behaved.

"Oh, Molly, I am tired! Are you the only one of the crowd to be up and

doing after last night?"

"I have persuaded mother to stay in bed and get a good rest. The boys

took a late train into town, and Miss Hunt never did go to bed. Aunt

Mary said she came down early this morning and 'phoned over to Aunt

Clay's coachman to come for her immediately, and off she went without

saying 'boo to a goose.' I wish you could have heard Aunt Mary's

description of her!

"'Yo' Aunt Clay's comp'ny sho ain't no wet weather beauty. Her ha'r was

so flat her haid looked jes' like a buckeye; and her dress 'min' me of a

las' year's crow's nes'. She was so shamefaced like she resem'led that

ole peacock when Shep done pull out his tail.'"

Judy laughed. "Oh, I do love Aunt Mary! But, Molly, won't it be fine to

see mamma and papa? Do you suppose they are really on their way?"

"It will be fine to see them, but it will be pretty sad to have them

take off my Judy. I am mighty afraid that is what they are going to do.

Go back to sleep now and I will bring you your letter as soon as Bud

puts in his appearance. I am going to have a hard game of tennis with

Jimmy Lufton against Ernest and that nice Miss Rogers. Weren't those

girls spunky last night? An experience like that will make you know

people better than years of plain, everyday life. Professor Green has

struck up quite an acquaintance with Miss Ormsby. It seems they have

many mutual friends, both of them having summered many times at

'Sconset.'"

Molly spoke quietly, but there was a slight tremor of lip and a

deepening of color that the sharp Judy saw and noted, but nothing would

have made her let Molly know that she had betrayed herself in the least.

"Molly was perfectly unconscious of what she was doing last night,"

thought Judy, "but all the same she was making poor Professor Green live

up to his name with jealousy. I don't know but it might make Molly open

her childlike old eyes if the patient professor should kick up his staid

heels and jump the fence and go grazing in another paddock for a while."

And then aloud she said, "All right, honey, I'll take forty winks and

then get up and come down to the tennis court."

Mr. Kean's letter arrived in due time and, sure enough, Mrs. Woodsmall's

surmises were correct. He was on the way to Kentucky with Mrs. Kean, and

expected to be in Louisville the next day at a hotel, and would motor

out to Chatsworth in the afternoon.

"Your father and mother must not think of stopping at a hotel, Judy,"

declared Mrs. Brown. "We have an abundance of room. Miss Rogers and Miss

Ormsby are going in town after supper to-night with Ernest and Professor

Green. Mr. Lufton expects to go back to Lexington to-morrow, and

Professor Green is only waiting for some mail and will take his

departure, too. We shall be forlorn, indeed, when all of them go. I'll

make Kent look up what train Mr. Kean will come in on and he will meet

it and send them both right out here."

"Oh, Mrs. Brown, you are so good. I would love for mamma and papa to be

here and to know all of you and have you know them. They are as

wonderful in their way as you are in yours, and your meeting would be a

grand combination."

Molly rather dreaded the coming of evening. She had promised Jimmy to

take a walk with him by moonlight, and she had a terrible feeling that

he might bring up the subject of "lemons" again. She was not prepared

for the question that she felt almost sure he was going to ask her.

"I am nothing but a kid, after all," moaned Molly to herself. "Professor

Green was right in calling me 'dear child.' Mother was married when she

was my age, but somehow I can't seem to grow up. Jimmy is so nice, and I

do like him so much, but as for spending the rest of my life with

him--oh, I just simply can't contemplate it. Why, why doesn't he see how

it is without having to talk it over? I wish none of them would ever get

sentimental over me." And then she blushed and told herself that she was

a big story teller and sentimentality from some one who should be

nameless would not be so trying, after all.

Supper was over, Professor Green and Ernest had gone gaily off, driving

Miss Rogers and Miss Ormsby to Louisville, Judy and Kent were making a

long-talked-of duty call on Aunt Clay, "just to show Miss Hunt there is

no hard feeling," laughed Judy. And now it was time to take the promised

walk with Jimmy Lufton.

"You look a little tired, Miss Molly. Maybe you would rather not go. You

must not let me bore you," said Jimmy, a little wistfully.

"Oh, no, I'm all right. I fancy it will take all of us a few days to get

over last night. I have wanted to tell you how fine you were and what it

meant to all of us to have you so cheerful and tactful. The boys can't

say enough in your praise. We had to have some safety valve, and if we

had not been laughing we might have been crying."

"Oh, I'm a cheerful idiot, all right, all right. I have such a short

upper lip and such an eternal grin on me that no one ever seems to think

I have any feelings. I get no more sympathy than a fat man. I wish I

could make people understand that I am as serious as the next, but

somehow me Irish grandmither comes popping out in me and I have to joke

if I am to die the next minute."

"I think your disposition is most enviable," said Molly kindly, "and, as

for the dash of Irish, I always think that is what makes our mother so

charming. It was almost a fad with our professor of English at college

to find the Irish mother or grandmother for almost all of the great

poets or essayists." Molly could not quite trust herself to say

Professor Green's name, the picture of the seemingly ecstatic Edwin

driving off with Miss Ormsby was too fresh in her mind, and she could

not help smiling at herself for her formal "our professor of English."

Their footsteps led them into the garden and then through the apple

orchard down by the little stream, and on to the beech woods.

"I wonder why we are coming this way," thought Molly, trying to keep her

mind off another walk she had taken over that same ground not so long

ago.

"Let's sit down here," said Jimmy, stopping under the great beech tree

where Molly and Edwin had sat on that memorable day when he had spoken

of his vision of the white-haired Molly, and then had stopped himself so

suddenly with a joke about his own possible baldness.

"Oh, not right here," said Molly hurriedly. "I know a nice rock a little

farther on."

"Molly, Miss Molly, Miss Brown!----Oh, Molly, darling, there is no use in

going any farther because I know you know that I have brought you out

here to tell you that I----"

"Jimmy, please don't say anything more. It 'most kills me to hurt you."

"Is there no hope for me? I'll wait a week, oh, I don't mean a week,

I'll wait forever if there is a chance for me. I know this is a low

question to ask you, but is there any one else?"

Honest Molly hung her head. "Not exactly."

That "not exactly" was enough for Jimmy. He smiled a wan little smile

that would have put his Irish grandmother to shame.

"Well, don't you mind, Miss Molly. I wouldn't have you feel blue about

me for a million. You never did lead me on one little bit, and I was

almost sure when I came to Kentucky that there would be nothing doing

for yours truly; but somehow men are made so they have to make sure

about such things. You and I have too much sense of the ridiculous to do

any spiel about the brother and sister business, but I'll tell you one

thing, I am your friend forever, and you must know that, and understand

that as long as I live I'll hold myself in readiness to do your

bidding."

"Oh, Jimmy, you are so good and generous," holding out her hand to him,

"I am your friend forever, and I hope we shall always see a lot of each

other."

Jimmy took her hand and for a moment bowed his curly black head over it.

Molly put her other hand on his head, feeling somehow that it was like

comforting Kent.

"You are sure, Molly?"

"Yes, Jimmy."

"Well, le's go home. I know you are tired.

"'If no one ever marries me

I sha'n't mind very much;

I shall buy a squirrel in a cage,

And a little rabbit-hutch,'"

sang the irrepressible.

When Judy got back to Chatsworth she found Molly weeping her soul out on

the pillow, and she had noticed as they passed the office porch that for

once Jimmy Lufton was whistling in the minor.

Molly Brown's Post-Graduate Days · 第 9 / 11 章