Books: Miss Gibbie Gault
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Kate Langley Bosher >> Miss Gibbie Gault
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"Not good at all. If you hadn't come I should have sent for you."
She tilted the screen at a different angle. "Sit down, and sit
where I can see you. But first put that table a little closer to
me. Here's Celia with the tea."
The table was moved and the large silver tray with its little
silver legs was placed upon it, the lamp under the kettle lighted,
and Celia waved out, and again Miss Gibbie leaned back.
"What day did you get here?" she asked. "Time has such a
somersault way of passing, one can't keep up with it. How long
have you been here?"
"Ten days. I came on the twenty-ninth, and this is the eighth
of November."
"When are you going away?"
"I don't know." John crossed his right leg over his left, shifted
his position and shaded his eyes with his hand.
Miss Gibbie took up the tea-caddy. "Do you think you've
accomplished great things by coming? Judging by your manner of
late, not to mention your looks, you haven't been drunk with
happiness since you reached this town of historic importance and
modern inconsequence. But of course--" she tilted the spout of
the kettle into the teapot--"my suggestion that you stay where you
belong was a mere woman's, and you saw fit to ignore it. Men like
to bring blessings on their head--and my friend John Maxwell is
most verily a man."
"You seem to forget it." He got up and began to walk backward and
forward the length of the room. "I wonder if I am sometimes. When I
see that round, red, moon-faced pig driving around town with Mary,
taking long horseback rides with her, and going to see her whenever
he pleases, I don't know how I keep from killing him. He isn't fit
to be in the same town with her. I know the man, went to school with
him. He's a cad and a coward and a big fat fool. He has some money--
that is, his father has--and a smearing of education, but he's coarse
and common and not to be trusted. Van Orm was a gentleman at least,
and if Mary wanted--"
"Does Mary know as much of your friend Mr. Fielding as you do?"
Miss Gibbie handed him a cup of tea, but he waved it back.
"If she doesn't it's because she's trying to be blind and deaf. I
have seen practically nothing of her since I came down. You think
I shouldn't have come. Perhaps I shouldn't, but I'm here, and for
the present am going to stay. For six months I've held off, but
through them we've been generally friendly, and I was hoping it
might work, the thing you suggested. I stayed away as long as I
could. But I had to come. I had to see for myself--see how she was,
even if I came through hell."
"A trip through hell might help many men. The trouble is they might
not be able to pass though. Ten days of it--"
"Is more than man is meant to stand. You are quite right." He stopped
and looked down at her. "What is it? What is the matter with Mary?
she is horribly polite, but were I a leper she could not hold herself
more aloof. Morning, noon, and night she has engagements, and
frequently with that brass-coated mine-owner of the Middle West. Do
you think"--his face darkened, fear had unnerved him--"do you think
she has any idea of marrying him?"
Miss Gibbie's head turned. The cup on its way to her lips was held
back and her left eye closed.
"Marrying whom? That Fielding person?" The tea was blown into
bubbles. "He uses a toothpick in public. Do you think Mary would
marry a thing of that kind?"
He laughed begrudgingly. "I can't imagine it, but neither can I
imagine why she is doing what she does--why she treats me as if I
were the most incidental acquaintance."
Miss Gibbie put down her cup, and pushed her chair a little farther
from the fire. "You don't have to, John. There are some things God
doesn't expect of a man. One is to see through a woman. He knows the
limitations of the male, and won't hold you responsible. Sit down!"
She waved to the chair in front of her. "I can't talk to any one I
can't see."
With a half-smile, half-frown John took his seat, and again shaded
his eyes with his hand. "Being that dense creature, a man, I would
appreciate the opinion of an illuminating lady on the tactics of her
sex. What have I done to bring this nonsense to pass? I make no
pretence of understanding any sort of woman, much less Mary's sort,
but why this charming indifference at one time, this indignant
curtness at another? I'm in the air, I admit, but I'm here to stay
as long as that familiar-mannered individual stays. I'd like Mary to
understand it, whether she wishes to or not. Would you mind making
the intimation? She doesn't give me the chance."
Miss Gibbie tapped her lips with the tips of her fingers, blew
through them for a few seconds, then she tilted the stool over
and kicked it aside.
"For a person of ordinary sense you are extraordinarily dull at
times." She looked at him long and searchingly, then she leaned
forward. "Tell me," she said, "are you honestly in earnest when
you say you don't know what is the matter with Mary?"
"With God as witness--"
"You're such a fool! Don't you see she's just found out--she
loves you?"
Half a moment he stared as if not hearing. In the glow of firelight
she saw his face whiten; then he got up and walked to the window
behind her. For some time he stayed there, looking through it with
eyes that saw not, and only the crackling logs broke the stillness
of the room. Celia came in to turn on lights and take away the tea-tray,
but Miss Gibbie waved her back. "I want the firelight," she said. "When
I need you I'll ring."
A few minutes more she watched the dancing flames and, watching
them, her face grew pale and strangely gentle. Into it came memories
of the days that were for her no more. Presently, without turning, she
called:
"John!"
"Well."
"I have something to tell you."
Slowly he came toward her. In his face was the look she had seen
in the long ago, and suddenly hers was buried in her hands.
He stood beside her. "For the love of God"--his voice was not yet
steady--"don't tell me what you have just said--is not true."
With effort her hands were opened, and again she leaned back in her
chair, but she did not look up. "I shall tell you nothing that is not
true," she said, wearily. "Mary loves you, but she is as stubborn as
you were blind. It has pleased you to put hope in Mrs. Deford's heart,
pleased you to be attentive to her little make-believe of a daughter.
Mary has seen and heard things that have led her to imagine you were
in love with Lily."
John sat down suddenly, limp with incredulity. "In love with Lily--
Lily Deford? did she think I was a--"
"She did. She felt about you very much as really fine women would
feel could they look down from the battlements of heaven and see the
sort of things their husbands frequently bring home to take their
place. You have been seen with Lily morning, noon, and night when
she wasn't with that Pugh boy, who they say is in love with her,
and--"
"I was with her as a bluff. Billy Pugh is a friend of mine, and a
good, clean fellow. Having troubles of my own, I felt sorry for him,
and was standing by; that was all. He's not responsible for his
father's or grandfather's business. They were in it before he was
born, and it's been honestly conducted always, which, unfortunately,
is more than Lily's father's was. Lily's father was a rascal, if he
is the husband of his wife. I'm not telling you what you don't know;
only why I have no patience with this rotten pride of Mrs. Deford. I've
been Lily's dump. Into my ears she's poured oceans of lamentations, and
I've let her babble on because it gave her such tearful satisfaction. I
like Billy, and stand ready to help any time he can squeeze out courage
to take things in his own hands."
"And you've been party to these secret meetings, have you? Been
thinking so much of Lily's happiness you forgot other people's.
You'd help them run away, I suppose?"
"I would. I believe in all respect being paid parents, believe
their consent to marriage should always be asked, their approval
desired. But if for any fool ancestral reasons consent and approval
are denied, then were I one of the parties I should invite the parents
to the wedding, but let them understand that whether they came or not
the bells would ring. Were I Billy Pugh and loved his little Lily I'd
marry her to-morrow. If he had a million Mrs. Deford would forget he
didn't have recorded forefathers. The trouble with Billy is he's not
yet rich. I told him a week ago I was ready to help."
His face suddenly changed and he leaned forward. "Do you mean that
Mary has actually, seriously imagined I was interested in Lily
Deford?" With a hard grip his hands interclasped as he looked in
the dancing flames, and when he next spoke his voice was again
unsteady. "It is not given to many men to love as I love Mary. I
could speak of this to no one else, for words are not for love like
mine. But having known her, having in my life but one thought, one
hope--Why didn't you tell her? Why did you let her think I was
such a fool?"
"Why?" Miss Gibbie sat upright. "I thought you were one myself.
Your unremitting attendance upon Lily was carrying my suggestions
rather far. In matters of compromise a man is a master. He'd fall
in love with anything if there was nothing else to fall in love with.
Mary has been something of a trail, and how did I know your vanity
had not surrendered to the soothing balm of adoration? A bit of
encouragement and Lily would have swung incense. She's that kind.
Many a man marries a woman because of her admiration for him. Many
a woman marries her husband because no to her man asked her. Only
occasionally do we find either man or woman who carries through
life one image alone in the heart. When you came down here you went
first to the Defords.
"And why? You were with Mary, and for important matters of business
discussion. I would have been in the way. I walked out to Tree Hill
and back, had a fight with myself about coming in, but knew I
shouldn't. I came down purposely on the twenty ninth, the
anniversary of Mary's return to Yorkburg, but--"
"Have you told Mary this?"
"Told her? I've told her nothing. She gives me no chance."
"Gives? A man who doesn't /take/ his chance doesn't deserve
it! For the love of Heaven, stop being so considerate and remember
a woman has to be mastered every now the then!"
She pulled up her silk skirt and held the tips of her velvet
slippers to the fire.
"Put on a fresh log, will you? Not even backlogs have backbone
any more. When I was young, men had red blood, and color and
flavor went with love-making. Nowadays people are afraid of
emotion, and courtship is a milk-and-mush affair. What time
is it?"
John took out his watch. "Quarter to six."
"Time to go home, boy. You are going to the Porters' party, I
suppose? I understand the little pot and big pot will be put on
to-night. They'll live on herrings for breakfast and cheese for
supper the rest of the winter, doubtless, but Josephine Porter is
bound to blow out once a year. Those decorations of her grandfather,
by royalty bestowed, must be kept in remembrance. With whom are
you going?"
"I asked Mary, and am going with Lily." John smiled grimly. "I
got an invitation for Billy and will hand her over as soon as her
mother is out of the way. I can't understand why Billy doesn't
assert himself."
"You can't? Queer!" Miss Gibbie looked in the fire. "Mary is going
to the party with that Fielding person, I believe. To-morrow night
she spends here. At supper I have some things to talk over with her;
so you can't come to supper. You might come in about eight-thirty.
I'm reading a French novel that Mary objects to. She read it, and
told me I mustn't. Unless some one talks to her she'll talk to me.
Would you mind dropping in so I can get at the book?"
She held out her hand. "Our bargain," he said, gravely. "I can no
longer hold to it. Do you release me?"
"Release you?" She strangled the sudden sob in her throat.
"Love has released you. Don't you see--Mary is awake?"
Chapter XXII
THE NEWS
The basket in Mrs. McDougal's hands was dropped as if its every
egg were a coal of living fire.
"Kingdom come and glory be! Kingdom come--and--glory be!" She
clapped first her right hand on her left and then her left on her
right and stared into Mr. Blick's beaming black eyes as if through
them rather than his mouth the information just received was to be
confirmed. Then she sat down on a soap-box and rocked in
unqualified delight.
"Kingdom come and glory be! What 'd you tell me a thing like that
for when I was a-standin' up? I might have sat down in that bucket
of lard 'stead of on a keg of herrings--or is it soap?" She looked
down with sudden anxiety on the seat she had taken without thought.
"I been long a-hopin' somethin' like this would happen, but I wasn't
expectin' of it to come this way. Kingdom come and glory be!"
Again Mrs. McDougal rocked backward and forward, her arms this
time tightly clasped as if hugging a cherished possession. Presently
she threw back her head and laughed until the tears rolled down her
cheeks.
"Can't help it, Mr. Blick--can't help it! To think of Pa Pugh and
Ma Deford in the course of nature being grandparents of the same
unsuspectin' infant! One and the same! I've never heard tell that
the devil was much on laughin', but he's a good grinner, and he'll
be just enjoyin' of himself to-day. That he will. And so will I.
Bein' human, I chuckle when I gets a chance. Kingdom come and glory
be!"
From a mysterious arrangement in the back of her skirt Mrs. McDougal
pulled out a handkerchief, made from the remains of an old sheet, and
wiped her eyes with it. Then she got up and leaned upon the counter
behind which Mr. Blick stood waiting for a chance to speak; his
round, red cheeks redder than usual, and his beady little eyes
blinking with importance.
"Tell me about it," she said. "I must have been dead and buried not
to have heard no speculations. Now I come to think of it, I did hear
the children say they seen Mr. Billy Pugh and Miss Lily Deford sneakin'
along in the shank of the evenin', all alone by themselves. But I ain't
paid no attention to it. Mrs. Deford don't think people like the Pughs
is fitten to spit on, but she owes Mr. Pugh this minute a bill, I bet
you, for carriage rides, what's bigger than she will ever pay. Maybe
now he won't press her for it, bein' they're so close connected from
henceforth and forever on." And once more Mrs. McDougal's hands came
together with a resounding smack.
"But tell me about it." She leaned farther over the counter. "When
did it happen, and where did they go, and how did the news come? Do
pray shake your tongue, Mr. Blick, and say something. You're as bad
as McDougal, and slower 'n molasses in winter runnin' down a hill.
Is she come to yet? Now, if 'twas just death, I could go by and
leave my sympathies. Even mill folks is counted then, for people
like to say poor people come and shed tears. It sounds hopeful for
heaven. But in marriage it's different. Congratulations is
presumptuous, lessen they come from kinfolks and friends, I reckon,
and Mrs. Deford wouldn't care to get the kind I'd like to give. Pride
is a sure destroyer, and as for haughty spirits!--I ain't no student
of history, but I've watched Yorkburg and I've seen right many
different kinds of falls. I don't make no pretence of bein' a Miss
Mary Cary kind of Christian. I'm just a church kind, who goes regular
when I got the clothes, and talks mean about my fellow-members when
they make me mad. 'Tain't no set of people which talks more about each
other than church members. Seems like 'tis their chief delight. It's a
heap easier and more soothin' to go to church and feel you kind of got
a permit to say what you oughtn't than to try to live like Christ. But
if you ain't a-goin' to tell me about the runaway I'll just leave my
eggs and step over and see Miss Puss Jenkins. Miss Puss will talk to
anybody, anywhere, day or night. All you got to do is to ask your first
question and take your seat. If 'n you ain't got nothin' to say--"
"How can I say it if you don't let a word get in noway, nohow?" Mr.
Blick was huffy. He had much to say, and thus far had been forced
to dumbness. "Don't anybody know anything much. They was both at
the party last night, and Mrs. Porter says that's what comes of
givin' folks like the Pughs an inch. Mr. John Maxwell asked her
for an invitation for Billy, and she gave it, being it was Mr.
Maxwell who asked, and the result was he run off and married--"
"Miss Lily! That he did! Bein' plain, he took an ell. Bein' proud,
she'll give him hell!--Mrs. Deford will. Just listen at that! I'm
gettin' to be a regular rhymer. Swell people certainly do have
advantage over humble ones. I tell you now, when I get to heaven I
ain't a-goin' to be in no particular hurry to be a saint with a halo.
I want first to be privileged to say unto others what they've said
unto us. But I don't want to do that till get through with Eve. She's
the first person I'm goin' to make a bee-line to. If ever a woman did
need shakin', it's Eve. As for Adam--" She waved her hand. "A man what
hides behind a woman's petticoats, or whatever she's wearin' at the
time, and says 'she made me do it,' I got my opinion of. Bein' a Bible
character, I don't speak of him in public often, but I ain't never felt
no call to be proud of him for a first father. It do look, though, as
if all men since Adam has been makin' of women an excuse. She's always
handy to blame things on. Reckon somebody will be sayin' next Miss Lily
made Mr. Billy fall in love with her."
"They say Mrs. Deford is holding of Miss Mary Cary responsible for
the running away." Mr. Blick began to weigh out certain orders which
had been delayed by the coming of Mrs. McDougal. "Miss Puss Jenkins
was in here this morning before breakfast and she says Mrs. Deford
is as near crazy as a lady like her could be. It seems Mr. Maxwell
took Miss Lily to the party last night, and, while her ma was there,
too, she slipped home and changed her dress and got her valise. Billy
Pugh did the same thing. Mr. Maxwell helped, though they say they
didn't tell him anything about it until last night, and he had to wear
his dress clothes. They caught the ten-ten train and went as far as
Vinita, where the preacher was waiting, Billy having gotten the
license from the county clerk during the day. Mr. Maxwell went with
them and was them married and caught the twelve-twenty train back,
bringing with his a note for Mrs. Deford."
"I reckon she's been swoonin' ever since, ain't she?" Mrs. McDougal
took up a handful of dried peaches and ran them through her fingers.
"She don't look like a swooner. She'd do better at swearin', I
reckon, and yet faintin' is always considered a high-class sign."
"Fainting!" Mr. Blick patted the butter in the scale and took a pinch
off. "Miss Puss Jenkins says she walked the floor the rest of the
night, and is walking yet. What she hasn't said about Mr. John Maxwell
ain't in human speech, but this morning she began on Miss Mary Cary
and is holding of her responsible just now. The hotter she got with
Mr. Maxwell, the cooler he got, Miss Puss says. She was with her when
he came back with the note, and if he was the kind that got scared
he'd be shaking yet. But he ain't that kind. He told her they'd made
up their minds to get married and when she calmed down she'd be much
obliged to him for going with them and seeing it was well done. She
was too raging for him to say much, and he didn't stay long, so I
was told."
Mrs. McDougal wiped her mouth. "Well, sir, I felt somethin' in the
air when I waked up this mornin', and I could tell by my bones
Yorkburg was shook by somethin'. It don't take much to make Yorkburg
shake, and it ain't had nothin' to talk about lately. This will give it
somethin'. Miss Lily Deford and Mr. Billy Pugh married! Whom the Lord
loveth He chaseth! He sure must be fond of Mrs. Deford! Well, all I've
got to say is I hope they'll stay away until the thunder and lightning
is over. A caterpillar has about as much chance to stand up straight
as Miss Lily to meet her ma in argument. I tell you now I wouldn't like
that longnet thing she puts to her eye to stare at me if I was alone
with her." She took up her basket. "Is the eggs out? I don't know what
I come for. My breath and brains is clean gone this mornin'. I wonder if
Miss Puss Jenkins is home? I think I'll just step up the street and ask
her if she's got any more of them missionary aprons to sell." She winked
at Mr. Blick. "Ain't folks funny? And don't we have to make believe a
lot in life? Miss Puss has told so many people she makes aprons for her
missionary money that she believes it sure enough. I make out I believe
it, too. It helps her feelin's and pays your bills. She says she has so
much time and so little to do that she makes aprons. Well, good-bye, Mr.
Blick. Much obliged to you for telling what you know, but my grandmother
always told me to go to females when wantin' details. A man ain't much
on trimmin's. Good-bye!" And with a wave of her hand she was gone.
* * * * *
An hour later John Maxwell, walking up and down in Mrs. Deford's
parlor, stood for a moment in front of the mirror between the
windows and smiled grimly at the face reflected in it. "Moral!"
he said. "When doing unto others as you'd have them do to you, be
sure there's no mother-in-law in it. I'm as innocent as a lamb, and,
like the lamb, am getting it in the neck, all right. I thought to do
a kindness, and am called a criminal. Poor creature! She was as crazy
last night as any March hare that ever hopped. When she was through
with me I was, let me see"--he counted on his fingers--"I was an
instigator, an abetter, a thief, a rascal, a double-dealer and
hypocrite, a deceiver and destroyer, a traitor and a flirt, a
socialist and anarchist. I was everything but a man."
He whistled softly and looked toward the door. "I'd give fifteen cents
if I could smoke during the coming interview. It's a gentleman's only
way of relieving his feelings when a lady is taking his head off. I
held in last night after stating facts, and stood the storm, but I
don't promise to do it again. I'm tired of this nonsense. If there
are high horses this morning, the tragedy queen must mount and rant
alone."
A noise as of deep breathing made him turn. In the doorway Mrs.
Deford stood tense, rigid, erect. A trailing black wrapper replaced
the low-cut shabby satin gown of the evening before. The pallor of
her face was heightened by a liberal use of powder which ended under
her eyes, where pencil-marks had been added to their usual lines to
give emphasis to the shock. And as she slowly advanced she measured
each step as though unequal to another.
With an inclination of the head John waited until she had taken her
seat. Her tactics had changed. So had his. For a brief moment he
stood in front of her, then spoke, and his voice and manner made her
look up as she had not intended to look.
"You have sent for me," he said. "I will be obliged if you will say
quickly what you have to say." He took out his watch. "I have an
engagement in less than fifteen minutes--"
"You have!" She half rose. His words were as match to tinder. "I
have an engagement for the rest of my life with shame and disgrace
and disappointment. You have helped to bring them on me and you
tell me to hurry--to /hurry!/ Her right hand flew out with
tragic eloquence. "That I receive you in my house is beyond my
understanding."
"And mine, madam. Shall I leave?" He smiled and started toward
the door.
"You shall not!" With frantic energy her arm was waved. "Have you
no heart in your bosom that you can so treat the agony in my
breast! My child who has in her veins the best blood in the State
married to a--to a--what?"
A clean, honest man, who loves her. Your daughter is very
fortunate, Mrs. Deford."
"Fortunate!" Her voice was a half-shriek. "She is disgraced and
so am I. Who are his people?" She shuddered. "From what does he
come?"
"As the ceremony is over, the important question just now is where
is he going? His salary in the bank here is exactly eighty-three
dollars thirty-three and one-third cents per month. A bank in which
I am a director in New York is looking for a certain kind of young
man. I wired to-day to hold the place for Billy. I think it can be
managed. The salary is three thousand a year. There is nothing to
bring Lily back to Yorkburg. I understood last night you would never
recognize her husband. Pity! New York is rather a nice place to visit.
Mother can find them a suitable apartment, and Billy is not apt to
worry you about coming on. I wrote mother last night to make it
pleasant for them and turn over my man and the machine until I get
back." He again took out his watch. "Is there anything else?
My time is up."
"Mine isn't, and you are not to go!" Her arm waved up and down. "Do
you think /lending/ your automobile a few days will make up for
our walking the rest of our lives? Do you think I expected Lily and
myself to /walk/ through life? I tell you /no!/ I expected
to ride! And what is three thousand a year when there might have been
thirty! But the suffering of a mother's heart is not to be understood
by a selfish man. You have been a traitor! In the darkness of the
night you helped my daughter marry a man whose father has hitched up
horses for me to ride behind. A man by the name of P-u-g-h!" She blew
out the word by letters, her lips trembling on each. Again she repeated
it--"P-u-g-h!"
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