Part 76 (1/2)

A minute later Primmie came into the room, bearing a lighted lamp.

”I cal'late now I can dast come in here, can't I?” she observed, with dignity. ”Anyhow, I hope so, 'cause Miss Martha sent me. She said I was to show you where your bedroom was, Mr. Cabot.”

The Boston banker, who had scarcely recovered from the blast launched at his head by his hostess, rose, still blinking in a dazed fas.h.i.+on, and followed the lamp-bearer up the steep and narrow stairs. She opened a door.

”Here you be,” she said, tartly. ”And I hope you'll sleep 'cause I'm precious sure _I_ sha'n't. All I'll see from now till mornin' is Cap'n Jeth gettin' ready to lam that Marietta Hoag one over the top of the head. My Lord of Isrul! Don't talk to ME!”

Cabot regarded her with interest. ”What is YOUR name?” he inquired.

”Primrose Cash.”

”Eh? Primrose?”

”Um-hm. Name of a flower, 'tis. Some folks don't like it, but I do.”

”Primrose!” The visitor slowly shook his head. ”Well--er--Primrose,” he asked, ”is there any other asylum in this vicinity?”

”Hey? ASYLUM? What--”

”Never mind. I wondered, that's all. Good-night.”

He took the lamp from her hand and went into his room. The amazed Primmie heard from behind the door of that room a mighty roar of laughter, laughter loud and long continued. Martha, in her room, heard it and stirred indignantly. Galusha, in his room, heard it and moaned.

He wondered how, in all the world, there was any one who, on this night of misery, could laugh.

CHAPTER XXII

There were two people in that house who ate a real breakfast the following morning. One was Primmie and the other was Augustus Cabot. It took much, very much, to counteract Miss Cash's attraction toward food, and as for the Boston banker, the combination of Cape Cod air and Martha Phipps' cooking had sharpened his appet.i.te until, as he told his hostess, he was thoroughly ashamed, but tremendously contented.

Martha smiled a faint recognition of the joke. Galusha, sitting opposite her, did not smile; he was plainly quite unaware that there was humor anywhere. The little archaeologist looked, so Primmie told Zach later on, ”like one of them wax string beans, thin and drawed-out and yeller.”

He kept his gaze fixed on his plate and, beyond wis.h.i.+ng her an uncertain good-morning, not once did he look at or venture to address Martha Phipps.

While they were at table Lulie came in. Considering all that she had undergone, the young lady was wonderfully radiant. Her eyes sparkled, there was color in her cheeks, and Mr. Cabot, who, in his time, had accounted himself a judge, immediately rated her as a remarkably pretty girl. Her first move, after greeting the company, was to go straight to Galusha and take his hand.

”Mr. Bangs,” she cried, ”how can I thank you? How can Nelson and I ever, ever thank you?”

Galusha's embarra.s.sment managed to pump a little color into his wan cheeks. ”I--I--ah--dear me, it was nothing,” he stammered. ”I--I am--ah--yes, quite so. Please don't mention it.”

”But I shall mention it. Indeed, I shall. Why, Martha, do you realize who was really responsible for father's being so suspicious of Marietta Hoag last evening? It was Mr. Bangs here, and no one else. Do you remember I told you that father had been receiving printed things, booklets and circulars, in the mails for the past few days, and that he had been reading them and they seemed to agitate him very much? Do you remember that?”

Martha said of course she remembered it.

”Yes. Well, those circulars and books came from the Psychical Research Society--the people who look up real spirit things and expose the other kind, the fraud kind, you know. Those told all about lots of cases of cheats like Marietta, and father read them, and he confessed to me this morning that they disturbed his faith in her a lot and he was suspicious when the seance began. Don't you know he hinted something about it?”

”Yes, yes, Lulie, I remember. But what did Mr. Bangs have to do with those circulars and things?”

”He sent them. Or he had them sent, I am sure. They came from Was.h.i.+ngton and who else could have done it? Who else would have had them sent--from there--to father--and just at the right time? You did have them sent, didn't you, Mr. Bangs?”

Of course, the others now looked at Galusha and also, of course, this had the effect of increasing his embarra.s.sment.

”Why--why, yes,” he admitted, ”I suppose I am responsible. You see, I--well--ah--I have friends at the Was.h.i.+ngton branch of the Society and I dropped a line requesting that some--ah--literature be sent to Captain Hallett. But it was nothing, really. Dear me, no. How is your father this morning, Lulie?”