“That’s all, sir. I’ll investigate and be ready to talk with you when
you return. Good evening!”
I could see that he was taken aback a bit by my own shortness in the
matter. He sat there holding his mouth open as if he intended to say
something more, but I walked on; it came to me that perhaps he was
going to say that he wouldn’t do any business with a Sidney--and I was
avoiding all argument on that point.
Celene gave me another flicker of a smile when she started the horse.
They went on at a good clip, and the moment they were out of sight
around a bend in the road I turned back, climbed the fence, and sat down
beside some bushes. My heart was so warm within me that I was not afraid
of a chill.
I was guessing that she would not waste any time in making that trip to
the railroad station; you see, I was building high merely on the glances
she had been giving me--on the flush which was on her cheek when she
drove away. Would she hurry back to overtake me? She did.
When I saw her coming, snapping her whip to make the horse trot at
a brisker pace, I climbed back over the pitch-pole fence and leaned
against it. It was pretty dark, but she spied me and stopped the horse.
“I have done something rather foolish,” I told her, staying where I
stood.
“Yes?”
“And I have found out all over again that haste makes waste. I wanted
to get a peep at that stand of timber and I went racing around in the
dark--and so I have wrenched my ankle.”
“Oh, I am so sorry!”
“It’s my own fault! It’s what the city does to a man! Keeps him on the
gallop! Makes him too impatient to wait for morning.”
“Can you get to the carriage?”
“But I don’t like to trouble you, Miss Kingsley! If you will send a
team--”
“No, you shall ride with me! The idea of my leaving you in the woods
alone! I’ll come and help you.”
“No, I’ll manage!”
So I limped to the carriage and climbed in. She watched me anxiously and
asked after my hurt with solicitude. I was doing a pretty mean thing,
I knew, but the opportunity to be alone with Celene Kingsley that first
hour of my arrival in town was a favor to be grabbed for and hugged
jealously. She walked the horse, and I sat beside her and was so happy
in that first intimacy that I was not a bit ashamed of my deceit.
“So you are doing wonderful things in the city!” she said, after a time.
I had not spoken, for I was afraid of blurting out something foolish.
“Nothing so very grand,” I faltered.
“But Dave and Ardon Sortwell have had something to say about that since
they have been home. I am very glad for you, Mr. Sidney.”
“I’d rather please you than anybody else.” That was a mighty awkward
answer and I was just as much embarrassed as she was.
“Good news about Levant boys pleases us all up here.’
“Sometimes I have thought they liked the bad news best--the most of
’em. The way they drove me out and then talked behind my back was--”
“I know all the truth of it--and most of the folks do now, I think,” she
broke in. “You must put it all out of your mind. You must not come back
with resentment toward anybody. There’s too much of that in the world.
There’s too much in Levant.”
She hesitated a moment and then burst out with a tremble in her voice.
“Oh, Mr. Sidney, I am so thankful because you have come home! I do hope
you can have some influence with your uncle. I ask your forgiveness for
bringing it up so soon. But my heart is so full of it all! I hurried
back, hoping I could overtake you.”
So that was why she had hurried!
“I don’t know about having influence with my uncle,” I said, and I could
not keep all of the rasp out of my voice. Her welcome of me simply as an
uncle-tamer had pricked me in a mighty tender place. “I don’t believe he
is going to give me either three cheers or a hug and kiss when he sees
me.”
“But you are an important man, now, and he must be proud of you and your
success. He will look up to you now that you have money and position.”
Like a bang on the head the conviction struck me that I had cut out a
fine bit of work for myself when I dropped back into my home town.