Part 5 (2/2)

For a few moments Mary sat in deep thought, and then a smile broke over her face--she had realized where her base of operations had been weak. Banis.h.i.+ng the smile from her lips, to find refuge in her twinkling eyes, she arose--to vanquish Mr. Lawson.

Quietly walking up behind him she gently laid one plump hand caressingly on his shoulder. Wondrous was the change that stole over his doughty face: the corrugated lines on his forehead gradually vanished, his eyebrows hovered no longer belligerently near the lids, while his chin--really a well-modelled one--receded slowly, but surely, back to its accustomed position, revealing a very pleasant mouth indeed. It could now be seen that the thin face of Mr. Lawson was a most kindly one.

”John,” began Mary, in a dangerously soft tone: ”I--I think more about thy going away than thou thinks. But thou knows how afeered I am that they'll nivver come together again, and so--and--so, just only for the moment, my thoughts had gone away from thee. And now thou knows this, lad, won't thou make some effort to save 'em from wrecking their lives? Maybe we can't do much, John, but we mun try and do something.

Now, if we can prevent the maister from going away to-night, something may turn up to-morrow that'll give 'em a chance to talk it over, and then it may come all reet between 'em once more. As for the train, lad, if the maister should miss it” (both hands were on his shoulders now, and her comely head was very near his), ”he simply couldn't get away till to-morrow.”

By this time John's face was gloriously radiant, and he was just about to turn around and promise her anything under the sun, when a shrewd expression flashed into his eyes, and composing his countenance, he said, in a somewhat independent, yet nervous tone, as he faced her and adjusted his now disturbing spectacles: ”Er--er, Mary, think o' the trouble I'd likely get into if I intrigued for the maister to miss the train; and what should I get for all my trouble? But still, la.s.s, I'm willing” (the gla.s.ses were needing no end of adjusting now) ”to do what I can--that is, of course, on--on condeetions.”

A somewhat embarra.s.sed look came across Mary's face as she covertly glanced at the man of conditions, who was now looking anything but imposing.

”And what may the condeetions be, Mr. Lawson?” There was a touch of wonder in her tone.

Mr. Lawson looked past her, again thrust his hands under his coat-tails, which he waved slowly to and fro like signals of distress, and said, as he raised his eyebrows and tried to appear perfectly at ease, ”I--I guess thou must remember, Mary.”

Evidently Mary's memory was not all that could be desired, for she shook her head dubiously, and seemed more ill at ease than ever.

Being thus suddenly brought to bay, John did what men generally do when they are cornered--he rushed into the thick of the battle, regardless of consequences.

”I axed thee, as thou knows, a year ago,” he broke out aggressively, as he gazed past her, ”to have me. Thou didn't say much in reply; but what thou did say meant No, and now I ax thee once more, wilt thou have me? I had not meant to ax thee again--though I like thee just the same. A man like me, la.s.s, has got a little pride, and I don't want to thrust myself upon any woman. But I mun say that, when I seed how worked up about the missus thou wert, and about the maister, too, going away--and hadn't a thow't for me--my feelings did get a little the best o' me, and I couldn't help exposing 'em again summat. So now thou knows the condeetions, Mary.” The coat-tails by this time were simply acting in an unheard-of manner, while Mr. Lawson's not very stalwart back was strikingly erect--his whole manner, in brief, was that of a man determined to bear the worst, should it come, as becomes a man. As he was still looking over her head he did not see her look of admiration as she stood and surveyed his warlike figure.

”The condeetions are--are extraordinary ones, Mr. Lawson.” She lowered her eyes so that he might not catch the light in them.

”Oh, are they indeed?”--the swing of the coat-tails was now nothing less than phenomenal--”then, Miss Mary Tiffin,” he continued, as bravely as he could, throwing out his chin a little more as he continued to look past her, ”that means, I suppose, that thou doesn't agree to the condeetions, and that thy answer again to me is No?”

Facing quickly about, he began to march independently to the door.

”Eh, lad, but thou does take me up so, not giving me a chance to say--say--” She sank down distressfully on a chair.

The collapse of Mr. Lawson was amazingly sudden; his erect shoulders fell, his chin lost its lofty alt.i.tude; and facing suddenly about, his gla.s.ses all awry, he hurried to Mary's side, and taking her hands from her face began a most treacherous tirade against himself, his master--yea, and even men in general--for their shameful treatment of the weaker s.e.x. Presently his voice grew very low, and then their heads got dangerously close together. When at last they arose, after an eloquent pause, John's spectacles were lying forlornly on the floor, his coat-tails once more were hanging in peace and quietness, his arm was around her, and he had the audacity to waggishly inform her that they were the best ”condeetions” that he had made in his whole forty-five years of life.

Suddenly remembering her mistress's troubles, the happy light died out of Mary's face, and turning anxiously to her now contented lover she said eagerly, ”And now, lad, do try and think o' something to help them. If nothing else can be done, there is the train; if it is missed there will be so much more time.”

”Nay, la.s.s,” John answered, as he sat down, ”the train scheme is no good; for I'm sure the missus would, as she has threatened, leave the house if he didn't go to-night.”

Picking up his gla.s.ses and slowly polis.h.i.+ng them, John continued ruminatingly, ”Like thee, Mary, I believe her heart's warm towards him, but it's her pride, and that can only be broken down by deeply moving her heart. Sure, sure, la.s.s, there's no other way.” He was silent for a brief s.p.a.ce and then went on, quietly, speaking to himself, his eyes fixed steadfastly on the carpet. ”And if the boots don't reach her heart and soften it towards him, there's nowt in this world that will, sure.”

”Now, John, lad, don't ramble on like that; I'm right anxious. Tell me what's in thy mind,” broke in Mary, restlessly, seating herself on a chair by his side.

”That I will, la.s.s,” answered John, briskly, shaking off his contemplative mood, ”for I believe we've now got the key to the sitiwation. Thou remembers,” he went on eagerly, ”how, soon after their little lad's death, the maister ordered that all his toys and clothing should be taken away from the house, as he couldn't bear to see 'em around?”

”I do, lad, I do, and it went hard wi' the missus to let 'em go; but she didn't like to thwart the maister, he wur so restless and morbid.

But it never should have been done, lad; it wer'n't becoming like.”

”Thou art reet, Mary, it wer'n't the thing to do; for in getting rid o' the things nowt wur left to bring tender memories back to 'em o'

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