Part 10 (2/2)
”I'll never run away again. You see if I do.”
The boy stopped suddenly at the sight of Colonel Lee swiftly approaching.
”Run and wash your face,” the mother whispered, ”and tell your brothers to put on clean s.h.i.+rts. I want them to see the Colonel, too.”
The boy darted into the house.
The woman looked about the yard to see if there were any evidences of carelessness. She had tried to keep it clean. The row of flowers that flamed in the beds beside the door was the finest in the county. She knew that. She was an expert in the culture of the prolific tall cosmos that blooms so beautifully in the Indian summers of Old Virginia.
A cur dog barked.
”Get under the house, sir!” she commanded.
The dog continued to look down the road at the coming horseman.
”Get under the house, I say--” she repeated and the dog slowly obeyed.
She advanced to meet her visitor. He hitched his horse to a swinging limb outside the gate and hurried in.
No introduction was necessary. The Colonel had known her husband for years and he had often lifted his hat to his wife in pa.s.sing.
He extended his hand and grasped hers in quick sympathy.
”I'm sorry to learn of your great misfortune from your fine boy, Mrs.
Doyle.”
The woman's eyes filled with tears in spite of her firm resolution to be dignified.
”He _is_ a fine--boy--isn't he, Colonel?”
”One of the handsomest little chaps I ever saw. You should be proud of him.”
”I am, sir.”
She drew her figure a bit higher instinctively. The movement was not lost on the keen observer of character. He had never noticed before the distinction of her personality. In a simple calico dress, and forty years of age, she presented a peculiarly winsome appearance. Her features were regular, and well rounded, the coloring of cheeks and neck and hands the deep pink of perfect health. Her eyes were a bright glowing brown. They were large, soulful eyes that spoke the love of a mother. She might scold her husband if provoked. But those eyes could never scold a child. They could only love him into obedience and helpfulness. They were s.h.i.+ning mother eyes.
Lee studied her in a quick glance before speaking. He knew instinctively that he could trust her word.
”Is there anything I can do, Mrs. Doyle?”
”Oh, I hope so, sir. My man's gone all to pieces to-day. He's good-hearted and kind if I do have to say it myself. But when the sheriff come to put us out, he just flopped and quit. And then he got drunk. I don't blame him much. If I hadn't been a woman and the mother of three fine boys and two as pretty little gals as the Lord ever give to a woman, I reckon I'd a got drunk, too.”
She stopped, overcome with emotion and Lee hastened to ask:
”How did it happen, Mrs. Doyle?”
”Well, sir, you see, we hadn't quite paid for the place. You know it's hard with a big family of children on a little farm o' ten acres. It's hard to make a livin' let alone save money to pay for the land. But we wuz doin' it. We didn't have but two more payments to make when my man signed a note for his brother. His brother got sick and couldn't pay and they come down on us and we're turned out o' house and home. The sheriff's give us till Wednesday to get out and we've nowhere to go--”
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