THE OLD FELLOW LAUGHED.
"You are a pestiferous son-in-law," said Warren, as Lyman entered the
room. "And I have taken possession of your private quarters," he
added, pointing to a pile of country newspapers. "I have brought them
in here to see if I could gouge some state news out of them. I know
you don't like that sort of drudgery."
"That is all right. But why do you call me a pestiferous son-in-law?"
"I saw you through the window."
"With the lady and the mule?" said Lyman sitting down. "I asked them
in to dine with me."
"Where? You say Staggs has nothing but a 'snack' on Sunday."
"Up here, to eat crackers and sardines."
"Extravagant pauper. I'm glad they didn't come."
"I knew they wouldn't."
"Did she ask you to sign the populistic petition?"
"Yes, but not in the name of love for the mule."
"In whose name, then?"
"Of her father, her mother, and herself."
"Are you going to sign it?"
"Not until she convinces me that she loves the mule, and I don't
believe she can ever do that. She has a contempt for him, and I
believe she is glad that her affairs are temporarily tied up. She's
charming."
"There you go, falling in love with a strange woman."
"No, I am not in love with her, but I am naturally interested in her.
I believe she has sense."
"Rather too pretty for that."
"No, she is handsome, but pretty is not the word. I'll warrant you she
can run like a deer."
"You are gone," said Warren.
"No, I am simply an admirer. But admiration may be the crumbling bank
overlooking the river. I may fall," he added, with a laugh.
"Don't. She has been taught to despise a real man. Let the other side
of the house have the trouble."
"Yes," said Lyman. "It is better to be under the heel of the express
company than under the heel of love."
"Don't say that," Warren objected, with a rueful shake of his head.
"Some things are too serious to be joked over. It is all right to make
light of love, for that is a light thing, but an express company is
heavy. You are restless."
Lyman had got up and begun to walk about the room. "Yes, the bright
day calls on me to come out."
"Isn't it the memory of a bright face that calls on you?"
"No. Well, I'll leave you."
"Won't you sit down to a sardine?"
"No. I'll stroll over to see old Jasper, and take cold pot-luck with
him."
Old Jasper, his wife and daughter were seated at the table when Lyman
entered the dining room. "Just in time," the old fellow cried. "We are
waiting for you, although we didn't expect you. We didn't know but
you'd gone up to McElwin's to dinner. Sit down."
Annie laughed, but the old woman looked distressed. "Jasper, you know
you didn't think any such a thing. And if you did, how could you? Mr.
Lyman doesn't intrude himself where he's not invited. And you know
that McElwin is so particular."
Lyman frowned. It was clear that Mrs. Staggs, in her ignorance and in
her awe of the man at the bank, could not feel a respect for
intelligence and the refinement of a book-loving nature. "You may
think me rude," said Lyman, "but I should not regard dining at his
house a great privilege. Leaving out the respect I have for the young
woman, it would not be as inspiring a meal as a canned minnow on a
baize table."
"Why, Mr. Lyman, how can you say that?" the old woman cried.
"Madam, the fishes were divided among the thousands when the Son of
Man fed the multitude, and that was a more inspiring meal than could
have been provided by Solomon in all his glory."
The old man let his knife fall with a clatter. "Oh, he got you then!"
he cried. "He set a trap for you and you walked right into it. All
you've got to do is to set a trap for a woman, and she'll walk into it
sooner or later."
"For goodness sake, hush, Jasper. A body would think you were the
worst enemy I have on the face of the earth."
"Enemy! Who said anything about enemy? I was talking about a trap. But
it's all right. We saw you, Lyman."
"Yes, and we didn't know it was going to happen," said Annie.
"Everybody was watching you. And I heard a woman say that she admired
your courage. I did, I'm sure."
"I didn't feel that I was exhibiting any degree of courage," Lyman
replied. "All I had to fear was the young woman."
"But the man is--"
"A coward," Lyman broke in.
Old Staggs struck the table with his fist. "I always said it!" he
shouted. "And he's another one that made light of my arrest of the man
that choked the sheriff. Coward! of course he is."
Mrs. Staggs objected. No one whom McElwin had chosen for a son-in-law
could be a coward. She admitted that he was not as gentle as one could
wish. His life had been led out of doors. But he was a shrewd business
man and would make a good husband. It was all well enough in some
instances to permit girls to choose for themselves, but a girl was
often likely to make a sad mistake, particularly a girl whose home
life had been surrounded by every luxury. Love was a very pretty
thing, but it couldn't live so long as poverty, the most real thing in
the world. The old man winked at Lyman. He said that age might soften
a man, but that it nearly always hardened a woman. It was rare to see
a woman's temper improve with age, while many a sober minded man
became a joker in his later years. Mrs. Staggs retorted that women had
enough to make them cross. "They have an excuse for scoldin'," she
said.
"Nobody has so good an argument as the scold," the old man replied.
"They have men, and that's argument enough," said his wife.
The old fellow laughed. "She put it on me a little right there," he
declared. "Yes, sir, I've got a steel trap clamped on my foot this
minute. But what do you think of the situation now, Lyman; I mean your
situation?"
"I don't know of any material change."
"But of course you are going to sign the petition," said Mrs. Staggs.
"Everybody agrees that you must, before court meets. And that reminds
me, I met Henry Bostic's mother today. The old lady doesn't appear to
be at all grieved over the part her son took in the affair. It would
nearly kill me if a son of mine had made such a blunder."
"It was no blunder on his part, and I don't blame him," said Annie.
"No one thought enough of his pretensions to ask him if he had been
ordained. And besides, Cousin McElwin had made fun of him."
"And a preacher can stand anything rather than ridicule," Lyman
declared. "He may forgive all sorts of abuses, but cry 'Go up, old
bald head!' and immediately he calls for the she-bears."
"And gives thanks when he hears the bears breaking the bones of his
enemies," said the old man.
"I don't blame him," replied Lyman. "Ridicule is the bite of the
spider, and it ought not to be directed against the man who dedicates
his life to sacred work."
The old woman gave him a nod of approval:
"You are right," she said. "But young Henry ought not to have been
revengeful."
"No, not as the ordinary man is revengeful," Lyman assented, "but we
serve the Lord when we humble a foolish pride. I don't think McElwin
could have done a crueler thing than to have crushed the mother's
heart with ridicule for the son."
"But about the petition," said Annie. "You will sign it, won't you?"
"I may."
"But why should you refuse. To annoy her?"
"No, to protect her."
"She would be awfully angry if she thought you presumed to pose as her
protector. But let us change the subject. The whole town is talking
about it, so let us talk of something else. Are you going to church
tonight?"
"Yes, with you, if you don't object."
"Oh, I couldn't object, but--but don't you think it might cause
remark, after what has happened?"
"There you go, leading back to it. Sawyer walked home with her; did
that cause remark?"
"Yes, in a way; and I believe she will wait for the divorce before she
goes with him again."
"Then she will be free of his company for some time to come. Well," he
added, "I won't go to church. I'll go up stairs and read myself to
sleep."