Part 74 (2/2)

Again Galusha nodded. ”Yes,” he said.

Cousin Gussie whistled again. ”But why did you do it, Loosh?” he asked, after a moment. ”For heaven's sake, WHY?”

Galusha did not answer immediately. Then he said, slowly: ”If--if you don't mind, Cousin Gussie, I think I should tell HER that first. That is, I mean she should--ah--be here when I do tell it.... I--I think I will change my mind and sit down and wait until she comes.... Perhaps.

you will wait, too--if you don't mind.... And, please--please don't think me rude if I do not--ah--talk. I do not feel--ah--conversational.

Dear me, no.”

He sat down. Cabot stared at him, crossed his knees, and continued to stare. Occasionally he shook his head, as if the riddle were proving too much for him. Galusha did not move. Neither man spoke. The old clock ticked off the minutes.

Primmie came home first. ”Miss Martha said to tell you she would be over in a few minutes,” she announced. ”Cap'n Jeth, he's a-comin' around all right, so Miss Martha and Zach and them think. But, my savin' soul, how he does hang onto Lulie! Keeps a-sayin' she's all he's got that's true and honest and--and all that sort of talk. Give me the crawlin' creeps to hear him. And after that seance thing, too! When that everlastin'

foghorn bust loose the first time, I cal'lated--”

Galusha interrupted. ”Primmie,” he suggested, gravely, ”would you--will you be--ah--kind enough to go into the kitchen?”

”Hey? Go into the kitchen? Course I will. What do you want in the kitchen, Mr. Bangs?”

He regarded her solemnly. ”I should like to have you there, if you don't mind,” he observed. ”This gentleman and I are--we would prefer to be alone. I'm very sorry, but you must excuse me this time and--ah--go.”

”Go? You want me to go out and--and not stay here?”

”Yes. Yes--ah--quite so, Primmie. Ah--good-night.”

Primmie departed, slamming the door and muttering indignation. Galusha sighed once more. Then he relapsed into silence.

Twenty minutes later Martha herself came in. They heard her enter the dining room, then Primmie's voice in resentful explanation. When Miss Phipps did come into the sitting room, she was smiling slightly.

”Primmie's heart is broken,” she observed. ”Oh, don't worry, it isn't a very serious break. She hasn't had so much to talk about for goodness knows when and yet n.o.body wants to listen to her. I told her to tell Luce about it, but that didn't seem to soothe her much. Luce is Lucy Larcom, Mr. Cabot,” she explained. ”He is our cat.”

Cousin Gussie, already a much bewildered man, looked even more bewildered, but Martha did not observe his condition. She turned to his companion.

”Mr. Bangs,” she said, ”it's all right. Or goin' to be all right, I'm sure. Cap'n Jeth is takin' the whole thing a good deal better than I was afraid there at first. He is dreadfully shaken, poor man, and he seems to feel as if the last plank had foundered from beneath him, as father used to say; but, if it doesn't have any worse effect than that, I shall declare the whole business a mercy and a miracle. If it has the effect of curin' him of the Marietta Hoag kind of spiritualism--and it really looks like a cure--then it will be worth all the scare it gave us. At first all he would say was that everything was a fraud and a cheat, that his faith had been taken away, there was nothin' left--nothin'. But Lulie, bless her heart, was a brave girl and a dear one. She said, 'I am left, father. You've got me, you know.' And he turned to her and clung to her as if she was his only real sheet anchor. As, of course, she is, and would have been always if he hadn't gone adrift after Little Cherry Blossom and such rubbish. Mr. Bangs, I--”

She paused. She looked first at Galusha and then at the Boston banker.

Her tone changed.

”Why, what is it?” she asked, quickly. ”What is the matter?... Mr.

Bangs--”

Galusha had risen when she entered. He was pale, but resolute.

”Miss Phipps,” he began, ”I--I have been waiting to--to say something to you. I--ah--yes, to say something. Yes, Miss Phipps.”

It was the first time he had addressed her as ”Miss Phipps” for many months. He had, ever since she granted him permission and urged him to drop formality, addressed her as Miss Martha and seemed to take pride in that permission and to consider it an honor. Now the very fact of his returning to the old manner was, although she did not yet realize it, an indication that he considered his right to her friends.h.i.+p forfeited.

”Miss Phipps,” he began once more, ”I--I wish to make a confession, a humiliating confession. I shall not ask you to forgive me. I realize that what I have done is quite beyond pardon.”

He stopped again; the road was a hard one to travel. Martha gazed at him, aghast and uncomprehending. Cabot, understanding but little more, shrugged his shoulders.

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