Part 9 (2/2)
”Always busy at something, are n't you?” he said, tipping over a bushel-basket half-filled with weeds, and seating himself upon it.
”Yes, I know I 've spilled out the weeds, but I 'll pick 'em up again when I 'm through. I came over to have a serious talk with you, and I 've got to be down here near you, where I can look you in the eye. The gra.s.s is too damp yet to sit on in white trousers.”
Jane laughed. ”It can't be a very serious matter that's troubling you, or you would n't think of your clothes.”
”It is serious, though. I 'm full of it, and can't stop to talk about the weather, so here goes.--I 've quarrelled with my father.”
Jane, who had thus far not ceased her weeding, stopped work and sat still to look at her neighbour. He met her gaze defiantly.
”Yes, I know. You think this is another case of schoolboy heroics, like the last fuss I told you I had with him--”
”I wish you would n't tell me.”
”I 've got to tell somebody. Come, Jane--you 've grown to seem like the best friend I have--don't turn the cold shoulder on me just when I need you. You know what my mother and sister are like----”
With a gesture of disapproval Jane turned away to her work.
Forrest watched her for a moment in silence; then he began again:
”All right, I won't complain if you 'll just let me tell you about this last sc.r.a.pe. There 's n.o.body else I can talk to--you know enough about us to know that.”
”There ought to be. Your brother----”
”Oh, Murray! With all respect to him--since you insist on respect--he 's not off the same piece of cloth with me, and can't understand me any more than I can him. His blood is n't good red blood at all; it's white, I think, and I----”
Jane rose up from her knees and stood above her visitor, determination on her frank face.
”Forrest Townsend,” said she, ”if you can talk to me without running down your family, I 'll listen, but not otherwise. I don't think you ought to tell me your affairs at all, but if you 're sure I can be of use I 'll hear them, on that one condition.”
Forrest studied her a moment without replying, while her clear hazel eyes returned his gaze. Then he laughed rather awkwardly.
”You 're the soul of honour, are n't you?” he said. ”And that's just why I need your advice. I don't want to do anything dishonourable, but I 'm in a corner, and don't see any way out except a jump over the wall. Let me tell you--please!”
Jane dropped upon her knees again and gave her attention to her work.
Taking this as permission, Forrest began, picking up a long, pink-headed weed and pulling it through his fingers as he talked.
”I 've known all the while father wanted me in the house with him, and wanted me to go to college with that end in view. We 've had a few brushes on the subject from time to time, and I 've told him over and over I never meant to go to college, or to go into the business, either, but he 's thought it boy talk, I suppose. Anyhow, it turns out he's never taken me seriously when I 've told him I meant to live my own life in my own way. He had me tutored all last winter, to get me ready for my entrance examinations, and he expects me to go down and take them next week. That 's where I balked. He tackled me last night, and I had it out with him. The result was”--Forrest tried to keep up the nonchalant manner he had a.s.sumed when he began this explanation, but his voice showed his strong feeling as he ended the sentence--”the result was--he gave it to me hot and heavy, and I--talked back at him. In short, I----”
Jane, her pretty lips set close together, her troubled eyes on the ground, listened anxiously for the words.
”You don't mean----” she began, slowly.
Forrest nodded, and she caught the gesture. It brought her head round and her eyes to search his. ”You didn't--say you wouldn't do what he wants?”
”I did--and meant it.”
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