Part 11 (2/2)

Tree said, 'I can't have you turning my cordial sour, Ephraim Weight.

Remember when you stole oranges out of the schooner, and Cap'n Tree horsed you up and spanked you? here's your health, Ephraim!'

”She--she looked at me for a minute, sharp and quick--I was seeking for some word that might bring her to a sense of her state, and what was fitting at her age--and then she begun to laugh. 'You thought I was dead!' says she. 'You thought I was dead, I see it in your face; and Viny sent you to view the remains. You go home, and tell her I'll bury ye both, and do it handsome. Go 'long with ye! scat!'

”That was the expression she used, to a senior deacon of the congregation she sits in. I believe Satan has a strong hold on that old woman. I--I think I will go to my room, wife.”

”Do you think there is really anything the matter with Aunt Tree?”

asked Vesta. She had followed the young doctor out into the prim little garden, and was picking some late roses as she spoke.

”I can't make out anything,” said Geoffrey. ”She says she has a pain, and tells me to find out where it is, if I know anything; and then she laughs in my face, and refuses to answer questions. I think Mr. Tree must have had a lively time of it; she's perfectly delightful, though.

Her pulse and temperature are all right; she looks well; of course at that age the slightest breath blows out the flame, but I cannot make out that anything is actually wrong. I suspect--”

”What?” said Vesta.

”I suspect she simply wanted you to come and stay with her, and made this an excuse.”

”But I would have come; there was no need of any excuse. I would have come in a minute if she had asked me; I am so very much stronger, and I love to stay here.”

”You won't stay long, though, will you? it can't be necessary, not in the least necessary. She is really perfectly well, and we--your aunts, that is--the house will be too forlorn without you.”

Vesta laughed; she had a delightful laugh.

”You have charming manners!” she said. ”I can't help knowing that you will really be glad to be rid of me, all but Aunt Vesta; dear Aunt Vesta.”

”You don't know!” said Geoffrey. ”It won't be the same place without you.”

”Yes, I do know; Aunt Phoebe told me. You said the three of you made the perfect triangle, and you wouldn't let in the Czar of Russia or the Pope of Rome to spoil it.”

”Oh! but that was before--that was when things were entirely different!” said Geoffrey. ”I--to tell the truth, I think I was about twelve years old when I first came to the house. I am growing up a little, Miss Blyth, I truly am. And you are not in the least like the Czar or the Pope either, and--I wish you would come back. Mayn't I have a rose, please?”

”Oh! all you want, I am sure,” said Vesta, heartily. ”But they are not really so pretty as those at home.”

”I thought perhaps you would give me one of those in your hand,” said Geoffrey, half-timidly. ”Thank you! I don't suppose--”

He was about to suggest her pinning it on his coat, but caught sight of Mrs. Weight at the opposite window, and refrained.

”Do you know any Spanish?” he asked, abruptly.

”Spanish? no!” said Vesta, looking at him wide-eyed.

”Not even names of flowers?”

”No! how should I? Why do you ask?”

”Oh--nothing! I was thinking of learning it one of these days, but I don't believe I shall. Come and walk a little way, won't you? You look tired. I can't--you must not stay here if you are going to get tired, you know. Old people are very exacting sometimes.”

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