Part 22 (1/2)
Mr. Thornton smiled, against his will, as he looked down into the earnest face of the little old lady. He patted the hand on his arm.
”Miss Doane, you are causing me a lot of trouble not connected with the business of the estate; but of course I'll always help you. Every one will--they can't help it.”
Drusilla drew a sigh of relief.
”I'm glad to know you ain't agin me, 'cause I like you, even when you almost always come here to scold me. You ain't near so stiff inside as you are outside. We're friends now, ain't we, babies or no babies?”
Mr. Thornton bent and kissed the withered old hand.
”Always, Miss Doane, babies or no babies; but you had better--”
”Never mind! You run along. Your dinner's cold by now. What you want to say'll keep till next time, and I know it ain't near as nice as what you said last. Good night.”
CHAPTER VII
John Brierly came.
He first wrote Drusilla a long letter and Drusilla answered it by telegraph--an answer that brought a reminiscent smile to John Brierly's lips. It read:
_”I can't talk by letter. Just come.”_
And John came.
He was met at the station by the young man from the lawyer's office who had been to see him in Cliveden, and when he arrived at the house he found Drusilla awaiting him. After the young man left, Drusilla said:
”John, come upstairs; I want to look at you, and I want to talk to you.”
She took him up to the small library, which looked very cozy with its fire in the big grate and the heavy English curtains drawn at the windows.
”Now set down there in that chair, John. It was made for a man--no woman could ever get out of it without help once she got in--and tell me all about yourself, John.”
John looked around the luxurious room in a hesitating manner.
”I hardly know what to say, Drusilla--I can't understand all this--I can't understand.”
”Never mind, John; it's all real. I know how you feel. I felt that way myself for the first few weeks; but now I'm gettin' used to it.”
”Is--is--this place yours, Drusilla?”
”Yes, it's mine. I'll tell you all about it tomorrow, but now I just want to talk to you and about you. You want to smoke, don't you?
Light your pipe and be comfortable. It'll make you think better.”
John laughed.
”I do want to smoke.”
He drew his pipe from some pocket and filled it from a worn tobacco pouch.