Part 14 (1/2)

”It's twelve o'clock. I wonder what Mammy is thinking,” was Jean's irrelevant answer.

”Does Mammy think for the family?” asked the Professor, a funny smile lurking about the corners of his mouth.

Jean's eyes twinkled as she answered:

”She was _mother's_ Mammy too.”

”Ah! I think I understand. I lived South until I was fifteen.”

”Did you? How old are you now?” was the second startling question.

”How old should you think?” was the essentially Yankee reply, which proved that the southern lad had learned a trick or two from his northern friends.

Jean regarded him steadily for a few moments.

”Well, when you raised your hat a few minutes ago your hair looked a little thin on _top_, so I guess you're going to be bald pretty soon.

But your eyes, when you laugh, look just about like the boys'. Perhaps you aren't so very old though. Maybe you aren't much older than Mr.

Stuyvesant. Do you know him?”

”Yes, I know him. He is younger than I am though.” The Professor did not add ”exactly six months.”

”Yes, I thought you were lots older. He's the kind you _feel_ is young and you're the kind you feel is old, you know.”

”Oh, am I? Wherein lies the difference, may I inquire?” The voice sounded a trifle nettled.

”Why I should think anyone could understand _that_,” was the surprised reply. ”Mr. Stuyvesant is the kind of a man who knows what children are thinking right down inside themselves all the time. They don't have to explain things to _him_ at all. Why the day I found Baltie he knew just as well how I felt about having him shot, and I knew just as well as anything that _he'd_ take care of him and make it all right.

We're great friends. I love him dearly.”

”Whom? Baltie?”

”Now there! What did I tell you? _That's_ why _you_ are _years_ and _years_ older than Mr. Stuyvesant. He _would'nt_ have had to say 'Whom? Baltie?' He'd just know such things without having to ask.” The tone was not calculated to inspire self-esteem.

”Hum,” answered the man who could easily have told anyone the distance of Mars from the earth and many another scientific fact. ”I think I'm beginning to comprehend what const.i.tutes age.”

”Yes,” resumed Jean as she flapped the reins upon Baltie who seemed to be lapsing into a dreamy frame of mind. ”You can't always tell _how_ old a person is by just looking at 'em. Maybe you aren't nearly as old as I think you are, though I guess you can't be far from forty, and that's pretty bad. But if you'd sort of get gay and jolly, and try to think how you felt when you were little, or maybe even as big as the boys back yonder, you wouldn't seem any older to me than Mr.

Stuyvesant.”

The big eyes were regarding him with the closest scrutiny as though their owner wished to avoid falling into any error concerning him.

”Think perhaps I'll try it. It may prove worth while,” and the Professor fell into a brown study while old Baltie plodded on and Jean let her thoughts outstrip his slow progress. At the other end of her commercial venture lay a reckoning as well she knew, and like most reckonings it held an element of doubt as well as of hope. It was nearly one o'clock when they came to the outskirts of Riveredge. The pretty town was quite deserted for it was luncheon hour. When they reached the foot of Hillside street, Jean said:

”This is my street; I have to go up here,” and drew up to the sidewalk for her pa.s.senger to descend. He seemed in no haste to take the hint, and Jean began to wonder if he would turn out a regular old man of the sea. Before she could frame a speech both positive and polite as a suggestion for his next move, her ears were a.s.sailed by:

”Bress Gawd, ef dar aint dat pesterin' chile dis very minit! What I gwine _do_ wid yo'? Jis' tell me dat?” and Mammy came puffing and panting down the hill like a runaway steam-roller.

Professor Forbes roused himself from the reverie in which he had apparently been indulging for several moments, and stepping from the phaeton to the sidewalk, advanced a step or two toward the formidable object bearing down upon him, and raising his hat as though saluting a royal personage, said: