“Walk right in, Mr. Barker,” cried 'Manda Grier, and Lemuel entered,
more awkward and sheepish in his new suit from the Misfit Parlours than
he had been before in his Willoughby Pastures best clothes. Statira
merely said, “Why, Mr. Barker!” and stood at her chair where she rose.
“You're quite a stranger. Won't you sit down?”
Lemuel sat down, and 'Manda Grier said politely, “Won't you let me take
your hat, Mr. Barker?” and they both treated him with so much ceremony
and deference that it seemed impossible he could ever have done such a
monstrous thing as kiss a young lady like Miss Dudley; and he felt that
he never could approach the subject even to accept a just doom at her
hands.
They all talked about the weather for a minute, and then 'Manda Grier
said, “Well, I guess I shall have to go down and set this boneset to
steep;” and as he rose, and stood to let her pass, she caught his arm,
and gave it a clutch. He did not know whether she did it on purpose, or
why she did it, but somehow it said to him that she was his friend, and
he did not feel so much afraid.
When she was gone, however, he returned to the weather for conversation;
but when Statira said it was lucky for her that the winter held off so,
he made out to inquire about her sickness, and she told him that she
had caught a heavy cold; at first it seemed just to be a head-cold, but
afterwards it seemed to settle on the lungs, and it seemed as if she
never _could_ throw it off; they had had the doctor twice; but now she
was better, and the cough was nearly _all_ gone.
“I guess I took the cold that day, from havin' the window open,” she
concluded; and she passed her hand across her lap, and looked down
demurely, and then up at the ceiling, and her head twitched a little and
trembled.
Lemuel knew that his hour had come, if ever it were to come, and he said
hoarsely: “I guess if I made you take cold that day, it wasn't all I
did. I guess I did worse than that.”
She did not look at him and pretend ignorance, as 'Manda Grier would
have done; but lifting her moist eyes and then dropping them, she said,
“Why, Mr. Barker, what can you mean?”
“You know what I mean,” he retorted, with courage astonishing to him.
“It was because I liked you so much.” He could not say loved; it seemed
too bold. “There's nothing else can excuse it, and I don't know as
_that_ can.”
She put up her hands to her eyes, and began to cry, and he rose and went
to her, and said, “Oh, don't cry, don't cry!” and somehow he took hold
of her hands, and then her arms went round his neck, and she was crying
on his breast.
“You'll think I'm rather of a silly person, crying so much about
nothing,” she said, when she lifted her head from his shoulder to wipe
her eyes. “But I can't seem to help it,” and she broke down again. “I
presume it's because I've been sick, and I'm kind of weak yet. I know
you wouldn't have done that, that day, if you hadn't have cared for me;
and I wasn't mad a bit; not half as mad as I ought to have been; but
when you stayed away so long, and never seemed to come near any more, I
didn't know what _to_ think. But now I can understand just how you felt,
and I don't blame you one bit; I should have done just so myself if I'd
been a man, I suppose. And now it's all come right, I don't mind being
sick or anything; only when Thanksgiving came, we felt sure you'd call,
and we'd got the pies nicely warmed. Oh dear!” She gave way again, and
then pressed her cheek tight against his to revive herself. “'Manda said
she knew it was just because you was kind of ashamed, and I was too sick
to eat any of the pies, anyway; and so it all turned out for the best;
and I don't want you to believe that I'm one to cry over spilt milk,
especially when it's all gathered up again!”
Her happy tongue ran on, revealing, divining everything, and he sat down
with her in his arms, hardly speaking a word, till her heart was quite
poured out. 'Manda Grier left them a long time together, and before
she came back he had told Statira all about himself since their last
meeting. She was very angry at the way that girl had behaved at Miss
Vane's, but she was glad he had found such a good place now, without
being beholden to any one for it, and she showed that she felt a due
pride in his being an hotel clerk. He described the hotel, and told what
he had to do there, and about Mrs. Harmon and the fashionableness of all
the guests. But he said he did not think any of the ladies went ahead
of her in dress, if they came up to her; and Statira pressed her lips
gratefully against his cheek, and then lifting her head held herself
a little away to see him again, and said, “_You're_ splendidly dressed
_too_; I noticed it the first thing when you came in. You look just as
if you had always lived in Boston.”
“Is that so?” asked Lemuel; and he felt his heart suffused with tender
pride and joy. He told her of the Misfit Parlours and the instalment
plan, and she said, well, it was just splendid; and she asked him if he
knew she wasn't in the store any more; and “No,” she added delightedly,
upon his confession of ignorance, “I'm going to work in the box-factory,
after this, where 'Manda Grier works. It's better pay, and you have more
control of your hours, and you can set down while you work, if you've
a mind to. I think it's going to be splendid. What should you say if
'Manda Grier and me took some rooms and went to housekeepin'?”
“I don't know,” said Lemuel; but in his soul he felt jealous of her
keeping house with 'Manda Grier.
“Well, I don't know as we shall do it,” said Statira, as if feeling his
tacit reluctance.
'Manda Grier came in just then, and cast a glance of friendly satire at
them. “Well, I declare!” she said, for all recognition of the situation.
Lemuel made an offer to rise, but Statira would not let him. “I guess
'Manda Grier won't mind it much.”
“I guess I can stand it if you can,” said 'Manda Grier; and this seemed
such a witty speech that they all laughed, till, as Statira said, she
thought she should die. They laughed the more when 'Manda Grier added
dryly, “I presume you won't want your boneset now.” She set the vessel
she had brought it up in on the stove, and covered it with a saucer. “I
do' know as _I_ should if I was in your place. It's kind o' curious I
should bring _both_ remedies home with me at once.” At this they all
laughed a third time, till 'Manda Grier said, “'Sh! 'sh! Do you want to
raise the roof?”
She began to bustle about, and to set out a little table, and cover it
with a napkin, and as she worked she talked on. “I guess if you don't
want any boneset tea, a little of the other kind won't hurt any of us,
and I kinder want a cup myself.” She set it to steep on the stove, and
it went through Lemuel's mind that she might have steeped the boneset
there too, if she had thought of it; but he did not say anything, though
it seemed a pretty good joke on 'Manda Grier. She ran on in that way of
hers so that you never could tell whether she really meant a thing or
not. “I guess if I have to manage many more cases like yours, S'tira
Dudley, I shall want to lay in a whole chest of it. What do you think,
Mr. Barker?”
“_Mr. Barker!_” repeated Statira.
“Well, I'm afraid to say Lemuel any more, for fear he'll fly off the
handle, and never come again. What do you think, Mr. Barker, of havin'
to set at that window every Sunday for the last three weeks, and keep
watch of both sidewalks till you get such a crick in your neck, and your
eyes so set in your head, you couldn't move either of 'em?”
“Now, 'Manda Grier!” said Statira from Lemuel's shoulder.
“Well, I don't say I had to do it, and I don't say who the young man was
that I was put to look out for----”
_“'Manda!”_
“But I _do_ say it's pretty hard to wait on a sick person one side the
room, and keep watch for a young man the other side, both at once.”
“'Manda Grier, you're _too_ bad!” pouted Statira. “Don't you believe a
word she says, Mr. Barker.”
_“Mr. Barker!”_ repeated 'Manda Grier.
“Well, I don't care!” said Statira, “I know who I mean.”
“_I_ don't,” said 'Manda Grier. “And I didn't know who you meant this
afternoon when you was standin' watch 't the window, and says you,
'There! there he is!' and I had to run so quick with the dipper of water
I had in my hand to water the plants that I poured it all over the front
of my dress.”
“_Do_ you believe her?” asked Statira.
“And I didn't know who you meant,” proceeded 'Manda Grier, busy with
the cups and saucers, “when you kept hurryin' me up to change it; 'Oh,
quick, quick! How long you are! I know he'll get away; I _know_ he
will!' and I had to just _sling_ on a shawl and rush out after this
boneset.”
“There! Now that _shows_ she's makin' it all up!” cried Statira. “She
put on a sack, and I helped her on with it myself. So there!”
“Well, if it _was_ a sack! And after all, the young man was gone when I
got down int' the street,” concluded 'Manda Grier solemnly.
Lemuel had thought she was talking about him; but now a pang of jealousy
went through him, and showed at the eyes he fixed on her.
“I don't know what I sh'd 'a' done,” she resumed demurely, “if I hadn't
have found Mr. Barker at the apothecary's and got _him_ to come home 'th
me; but of course, 'twan't the same as if it was the young man!”
Lemuel's arm fell from Statira's waist in his torment.
“Why, Lemuel!” she said in tender reproach.
“Why, you coot!” cried 'Manda Grier in utter amazement at his
single-mindedness; and burst into a scream of laughter. She took the
teapot from the stove, and set it on the table. “There, young man--if
you _are_ the young man--you better pull up to the table, and have
something to start your ideas. S'tira! Let him come!” and Lemuel,
blushing for shame at his stupidity, did as he was bid.
“I've got the greatest mind in the world to set next to S'tira myself,”
said 'Manda Grier, “for fear she should miss that young man!” and now
they both laughed together at Lemuel; but the girls let him sit between
them, and Statira let him keep one of her hands under the table, as much
as she could. “I never saw such a jealous piece! Why, I shall begin
to be afraid for myself. What should you think of S'tira's going to
housekeeping with me?”
“I don't believe he likes the idea one bit,” Statira answered for him.
“Oh yes, I do!” Lemuel protested.
“'D you tell him?” 'Manda Grier demanded of her. She nodded with saucy
defiance. “Well, you _have_ got along! And about the box-factory?”
Statira nodded again, with a look of joyous intelligence at Lemuel.
“Well, what _hain't_ you told, I wonder!” 'Manda Grier added seriously
to Lemuel, “I think it'll be about the best thing in the world for
S'tira. I see for the last six months she's been killin' herself in that
store. She can't ever get a chance to set down a minute; and she's on
her feet from mornin' till night; and I think it's more 'n half that
that's made her sick; I don't _say_ what the other four-fifths was!
“Now, 'Manda Grier, stop!”
“Well, that's over with now, and now we want to keep you out that store.
I been lookin' out for this place for S'tira a good while. She can go
onto the small boxes, if she wants to, and she can set down all the
time; and she'll have a whole hour for her dinner; and she can work by
the piece, and do as much or as little as she's a mind to; but if she's
a mind to work she can make her five and six dollars a week, easy. Mr.
Stevens's _real_ nice and kind, and he looks out for the girls that
ain't exactly strong--not but what S'tira's as strong as anybody, when
she's well--and he don't put 'em on the green paper work, because it's
got arsenic in it, and it makes your head ache, and you're liable to
blood poisonin'. One the girls fainted and had spasms, and as soon as he
found it out he took her right off; and he's just like clockwork to pay.
I think it'll do everything for S'tira to be along 'th me there, where I
can look after her.”
Lemuel said he thought so too; he did not really think at all, he was
so flattered at being advised with about Statira, as if she were in his
keeping and it was for him to say what was best for her; and when she
seemed uncertain about his real opinion, and said she was not going to
do anything he did not approve of, he could scarcely speak for rapture,
but he protested that he did approve of the scheme entirely.
“But you shouldn't want we girls to set up housekeeping in rooms?” she
suggested; and he said that he should, and that he thought it would be
more independent and home-like.
“We're half doin' it now,” said 'Manda Grier, “and I know some
rooms--two of 'em--where we could get along first rate, and not cost us
much more 'n half what it does here.”
After she cleared up the tea-things she made another errand downstairs,
and Lemuel and Statira went back to their rocking-chair. It still amazed
him that she seemed not even to make it a favour to him; she seemed to
think it was favour to her. What was stranger yet was that he could not
feel that there was anything wrong or foolish about it; he thought of
his mother's severity about young folks' sickishness, as she called it,
and he could not understand it. He knew that he had never had such right
and noble thoughts about girls before; perhaps Statira was better than
other girls; she must be; she was just like a child; and he must be very
good himself to be anyways fit for her; if she cared so much for him,
it must be a sign that he was not so bad as he had sometimes thought.
A great many things went through his mind, the silent comment and
suggestion of their talk, and all the time while he was saying something
or listening to her, he was aware of the overwhelming wonder of her
being so frank with him, and not too proud or ashamed to have him know
how anxious she had been, ever since they first met, for fear he did not
care for her. She had always appeared so stylish and reserved, and now
she was not proud at all. He tried to tell her how it had been with him
the last three weeks; all that he could say was that he had been afraid
to come. She laughed, and said, the idea of his being afraid of _her_!
She said that she was glad of everything she had gone through. At times
she lifted herself from his shoulder and coughed; but that was when she
had been laughing or crying a little. They told each other about their
families; Statira said she had not really any folks of her own; she was
just brought up by her aunt; and Lemuel had to tell her that his mother
wore bloomers. Statira said she guessed she should not care much for
the bloomers; and in everything she tried to make out that he was much
better than she was, and just exactly right. She already spoke of his
sister by her first name, and she entered into his whole life, as if she
had always known him. He said she must come with him to hear Mr. Sewell
preach, sometime; but she declared that she did not think much of a
minister who could behave the way he had done to Lemuel. He defended
Sewell, and maintained that if it had not been for him he might not have
come to Boston, and so might never have seen her; but she held out that
she could not bear Mr. Sewell, and that she knew he was double-faced,
and everything. Lemuel said well, he did not know that he should ever
have anything more to do with him; but he liked to hear him preach, and
he guessed he tried to do what was about right. Statira made him promise
that if ever he met Mr. Sewell again, he would not make up to him, any
way; and she would not tolerate the thought of Miss Vane.
“What you two quar'lin' about?” demanded 'Manda Grier, coming suddenly
into the room; and that turned their retrospective griefs into joy
again.
“I'm scoldin' him because he don't think enough of himself,” cried
Statira.
“Well, he seems to take it pretty meekly,” said 'Manda Grier. “I guess
you didn't scold very hard. Now, young man,” she added to Lemuel, “I
guess you better be goin'. It's five o'clock, and if you should be out
after dark, and the bears should get you, I don't know what S'tira would
do.”
“'Tain't five yet!” pleaded Statira. “That old watch of yours is always
tryin' to beat the town clock.”
“Well, it's the clock that's ahead this time,” said 'Manda Grier. “My
watch says quarter of. Come, now, S'tira, you let him go, or he sha'n't
come back any more.”
They had a parting that Lemuel's mother would have called sickish
without question; but it all seemed heavenly sweet and right. Statira
said now he had got to kiss 'Manda Grier too; and when he insisted, her
chin knocked against his, and saved her lips, and she gave him a good
box on the ear.
“There, I guess that 'll do for one while,” she said, arranging her
tumbled hair; “but there's more kisses where that came from, for both of
you if you want 'em. Coots!”
Once, when Lemuel was little, he had a fever, and he was always seeming
to glide down the school-house stairs without touching the steps with
his feet. He remembered this dream now, when he reached the street; he
felt as if he had floated down on the air; and presently he was back in
his little den at the hotel, he did not know how. He ran the elevator up
and down for the ladies who called him from the different floors, and he
took note of the Sunday difference in their toilet as they passed in to
tea; but in the same dreamy way.
After the boarders had supped, he went in as usual with Mrs. Harmon's
nephew, less cindery than on week-days, from the cellar, and Mrs.
Harmon, silken smooth for her evening worship at the shrine of a popular
preacher from New York. The Sunday evening before, she had heard an
agnostic lecture in the Boston Theatre, and she said she wished to
compare notes. Her tranquillity was unruffled by the fact that the
head-waitress had left, just before tea; she presumed they could get
along just as well without her as with her: the boarders had spoiled
her, anyway. She looked round at Lemuel's face, which beamed with his
happiness, and said she guessed she should have to get him to open the
dining-room doors, and seat the transients the next few days, till she
could get another head-waitress. It did not seem to be so much a request
as a resolution; but Lemuel willingly assented. Mrs. Harmon's nephew
said that so long as they did not want him to do it he did not care who
did it; and if a few of them had his furnace to look after they would
not be so anxious to kick.