AT CHURCH.
On the following Sunday, which in fact was the day after the scene in
the office, Lyman went to church. There were several churches in Old
Ebenezer, but he chose the one which was the religious affiliation of
the banker's family. A number of clean looking young fellows stood
outside to gaze at the girls going in, and they nudged one another and
giggled as they saw Lyman approaching. He pretended not to notice
them, going straightway into the church. Most of the pews were free,
and he sat down about the middle of the house and began carefully to
look about over the congregation. A strange feeling possessed him, and
he looked back with a thrill when he heard the rustle of skirts in the
doorway. At last he saw her and he thought that Zeb Sawyer came with
her to the door. The banker and his stately wife came in, but Lyman
had no eye for them. He sat almost in a trance, gazing at the young
woman as she walked slowly down the opposite aisle. She reminded him
of a peach tree blooming in the early spring, there was so much pink
and the rich color of cream about her. She sat down not far from him
and he gazed at the silk-brown hair on the back of her neck. Once she
looked around but her eye did not rest on him. She sang with the
congregation, and he selected a sweet tone for her voice, and smiled
afterward to discover that it was in the voice of a plain woman seated
near her. Some one sat down beside him, and he was surprised to find
Caruthers.
The lawyer was surprised too, and he made a motion as if to move away.
"Never mind," whispered Lyman, "stay where you are."
"Thank you," Caruthers whispered in turn. "I didn't know but that fog
was still between us."
"It is, and that's the reason we didn't recognize each other sooner."
"Then I'd better move."
"It is not necessary. I can stand it if you can."
"All right. Deuce of an affair you've got into."
"Yes, rather out of the ordinary."
"Has the old man offered you money to turn loose?"
"He offered to lend me a small sum."
"Why don't you make him give you a big sum?"
"Because I am not a scoundrel."
"No. Because you are weak. I would."
"Yes," Lyman whispered. "Because you are a scoundrel."
"Don't say that to me."
"Sit over there," said Lyman.
Caruthers moved away, and Lyman sat gazing at the young woman. "I am
going to be of service to her," he mused. "And one of these days when
she finds herself really in love she will thank me. She is dazzling,
but I don't believe I could love her. I don't believe she has very
much sense. She looks like a painting. I'd like to see her in an
empire gown. I wonder what she thinks of me. Perhaps she doesn't." He
smiled at himself, and then became aware that the preacher was in the
heated midst of his sermon.
While the congregation was moving out, with greetings in low voices,
and with many a smiling nod, the banker caught sight of Lyman, and
made a noise as if puffing out a mouthful of smoke. His wife, who was
slightly in front, glanced back at him.
"That wretched Lyman," he said, leaning toward her.
"Where?" she asked.
"Over at the right, but don't look at him. Everybody is staring at
us."
"Where is Eva?"
"You ought to know," he answered.
"She is coming, just behind us."
They passed out. Lyman saw Zeb Sawyer standing at the door. He bowed
to Mr. and Mrs. McElwin and continued to stand there, waiting for the
young woman. She came out. She said something, and catching the
expression of her face Lyman thought she must have remonstrated with
him. But she permitted him to join her, and they walked away slowly.
Lyman overtook them.
"Pardon me," he said to her, paying no attention to Sawyer, "but do
you realize the scandalous absurdity of your action at his moment?"
"Sir!" Her graceful neck stiffened as she looked at him.
[Illustration: outside the church]
"Don't you know that it is not in good form to receive the attentions
of an old lover so soon after marriage?"
She stopped, jabbed the ground with her parasol and laughed. But in a
moment she had repented of her merriment. "I wish you would go away,"
she said. "You have already caused me tears enough."
"What, so soon? The beautific smile, rather than the tear should be
the emblem of the honeymoon. But this is not what I approached you to
say. I wish to ask when I may expect a visit from you."
"I, visit you!"
"Yes. To ask me to sign the petition to the Court."
"I ask you now, sir."
"There!" said Sawyer, walking close beside the young woman.
"In the name of the love you bear this man?"
She looked at him with a blush. "In the name of my father, my mother
and myself," she said.
"Oh," said he, "you are not the simple-minded beauty I expected to
find. I suspect that your flatterers have not given you a fair chance.
It is difficult to look through the dazzle and estimate the
intelligence of a queen."
"Really! You come with a new flattery. My father's money--"
"Miss, or madam, your father is a pauper in comparison with the man
who loves nature. He is a slave, living the life of a slave-driver. He
is proud of you, not because you are a woman, but because you are, to
him, a picture in a gilt frame."
"I just know everybody is looking at us," she said.
"You mean that you are afraid some of them may not be looking."
"Really! You are impudent, Mr.----"
"Have you forgotten your own name? Oh, by the way, your maiden name
was McElwin, I believe."
She halted again to laugh. "Oh, this is too funny for anything," she
said. "Isn't it, Zeb?"
"It won't be if your father looks around."
"He is too near the bank to look around now," Lyman replied. "He must
keep his eyes on the temple."
"Zeb," she said, "why do you let this man talk that way? I thought you
had more spirit."
"He has the spirit of anger, but not of courage," Lyman remarked.
"Eva," said Sawyer, "out in the Fox Grove neighborhood this man is
known as a desperado."
"That phase of character was forced upon me, madam," Lyman replied,
"and I had to accept it. Just as this man has been compelled to accept
the name of notorious bully and coward, which was forced upon him. He
gained some little prestige by shooting an unarmed man, and has been
afraid to meet him since. The people have found this out, and hence
his name of coward."
"It's a--" Sawyer hesitated.
"It's a what?" Lyman asked.
"A mistake."
"A soft word," said the young woman.
"A gentleman uses soft words in the presence of ladies," Sawyer
replied.
"And a weak man uses a weak word in apology for a weak character,"
Lyman spoke up.
"Oh, I never heard anything like this before," the young woman
declared. "I didn't know that men could be so entertaining."
"The potted plant astonished at the virility of the weed," said Lyman.
"But I must leave you here. My office is up there. Mr. Sawyer knows
where it is. His name appears on my list of callers. No, thank you, I
cannot dine with you today."
"Oh, how impertinent," she laughed. "Nobody asked you, sir."
"No, but I'll ask you. My partner is up there now, with his oil stove
lighted and the coffee hot. We have some broken dishes, and some cups
that are cracked with age. Won't you come up and dine with us?"
"Why, I thought you boarded with Cousin Jasper Staggs. And ain't he
the funniest thing? I like him ever so much."
"I do board with him, but I often dine out. Won't you come up and have
a box of sardines?"
"No, I thank you. Wait a moment. When are you going to sign that
petition for father?"
"When am I going to sign it for you?"
"Why, as soon as you can."
"No. But as soon as you comply with all the requirements of
sentimental rather than of statute law."