Part 31 (1/2)

He heard the gate-latch click, and old Mitch.e.l.l's thumping tread on the veranda steps as he descended to meet some one. Going to a window and parting the curtains cautiously, Mostyn looked down on the walk. It was his wife. He saw her meet her father, but she did not slacken her brisk walk toward the house.

”Where have you been all day?” the old man demanded, following behind.

”I don't have to tell you,” Irene answered. ”You are driving me crazy with your eternal suspicions. If I keep on answering your questions you will never stop. Let me alone. You needn't watch me like a hawk. I am old enough to take care of myself.”

An inarticulate reply came up from the old man, and the next moment Mostyn heard Irene ascending the stairs. The door of her room opened and shut. Mostyn distinctly heard the turning of the key. He looked at his watch. It was half past eight. He would have to hurry to catch a car. He went back to the bureau.

At this instant something happened. Hearing a low sound and looking in the gla.s.s, he saw a little white-robed figure creeping stealthily across the floor to his bed. He pretended not to see, and watched d.i.c.k as he softly crept between the sheets. Turning round, he caught the boy's sheepish stare, which suddenly became a look of grim, even defiant, determination.

”Why did you come, d.i.c.k?” he asked, and as he spoke he crept toward the bed like a man in a dream drawn to some ravis.h.i.+ng delight. He sat down on the edge of the bed. He caught the child's little hand in his own.

The nerves of his whole yearning soul seemed centered in his fingers.

”Daddy”--the boy hesitated; his words hung as if entangled in a fear of refusal--”let me stay in your bed till you come home. I am not afraid.

I don't want to sleep in there with Hilda. I don't like her.”

Till he came home! The words seemed to sink into and surge back from the core of his acc.u.mulated remorse. Till he came home, perhaps near dawn, reeking with the odor of licentiousness--the very licentiousness he was praying that his child might not be drawn into.

He put his hand on the little brow. He bent and kissed it. He felt his resistance falling away from him like the severed thongs of a prisoner.

A force was entering him which mere flesh could not combat. He slid his hand under the child to raise him up, and felt the little body bound in surprised delight toward him. He pressed the soft form to his breast.

He felt the keen pain of restrained emotion within him.

Taking the boy in his arms, he sat down in a rocking-chair, holding him as a mother might an adored infant. ”Do you want Daddy to rock you to sleep?” he asked.

”Oh, will you, Daddy, will you?”

”Yes.” Mostyn stroked the soft cool legs caressingly and pressed the child's brow against his cheek. The boy was quiet for a moment; then his father felt him stir uneasily.

”What is it now?” he inquired.

”When I get to sleep what are you going to do with me?”

Mostyn thought rapidly. ”I'll put you in my bed,” he said, slowly. Then he added, with firmness: ”I'll go down to the library and read the papers, and then I'll come back and sleep with you. I shall not go away to-night.”

The child said nothing. He simply put both his arms about his father's neck, kissed him on the cheek, and cuddled up in his arms.

CHAPTER VII

One morning, during the middle of that week, as Saunders was on his way to the bank, he was surprised to meet Dolly coming out of one of the big dry-goods shops. She wore a new hat and an attractive linen dress he had never seen her wear before. She smiled and flushed prettily as she extended her hand.

”You were not expecting to see this mountain greenhorn down here, were you?” she laughed. ”As for me, I hardly know which end of me is up. I don't see how you can live in all this whizz, bustle, smoke, and dust.”

”I am wondering what miracle brought you,” he answered.

”Well, I'll tell you. It is simple enough when you know,” Dolly smiled.

”The rural schools of the State are holding a convention of teachers here. We meet at the Capitol at ten o'clock this morning. I'm a delegate, with all expenses paid. I represent our county. Isn't that nice? I feel like a big somebody. I was just wondering if the mayor will call on me. I think he ought to, but I really couldn't see him. My time is all occupied. They have asked me to make a talk. They've got me down for a few minutes' harangue, and I don't know more than a rat what I'll say. We are going to try for a State appropriation in our section, meet the members of the Legislature, and do some wire-pulling and lobby work.”

”And where are you going at this minute?” Saunders laughed, merrily.