Part 18 (2/2)

”I shouldn't be surprised if he were on rations. You know he always makes some excuse when we invite him to a spread. He's too proud to accept favors and not reciprocate, I believe.”

David overheard these remarks, and a very long walk was required to restore his serenity. During this walk he planned to get some extra work that would insure him compensation requisite to provide a modest spread so that he might allay their suspicions. Upon his return to his lodgings he found an enormous box which had come by express from Lafferton. It contained Pennyroyal's best culinary efforts; also four dozen eggs, a two-pound pat of b.u.t.ter, coffee, and a can of cream.

He propitiated Mrs. Tupps by the proffer of a dozen of the eggs and told her of his desire to entertain his friends. It would be impossible to do this in his room, for when he lay in bed he could touch every piece of furniture with but little effort.

David had become his landlady's confidant and refuge in time of trouble, and she was willing to allow him the privilege of the dining room.

”I am going away to-night for a couple of days, but I would rather you wouldn't mention it to the others. You may have the use of the dining room and the dishes.”

David's friends were surprised to receive an off-hand invitation from him to ”drop in for a little country spread.” They were still more surprised when they beheld the long table with its sumptuous array of edibles,--raised biscuits, golden b.u.t.ter, cold chicken, pickles, jelly, sugared doughnuts, pork cake, gold and silver cake, crullers, mince pie, apple pie, cottage cheese, cider, and coffee.

”It looks like a county fair exhibit, Dunne,” said a city-bred chap.

Six healthy young appet.i.tes did justice to this repast and insured David's acceptance of five invitations to dine. It took Mrs. Tupps and David fully a week to consume the remnants of this collation. The eggs he bestowed upon an anemic-faced lodger who had been prescribed a milk and egg diet, but with eggs at fifty cents a dozen he had not filled his prescription.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”_David's friends were surprised to receive an off-hand invitation from him to 'drop in for a little country spread'_”]

At the end of the college year David went back to the farm, and a snug sense of comfort and a home-longing filled him at the sight of the old farmhouse, its lawn stretching into gardens, its gardens into orchards, orchards into meadows, and meadows into woodlands. Through the long, hot summer he tilled the fields, and invested the proceeds in clothes and books for the ensuing year.

There followed three similar years of a hand-to-mouth existence, the privations of which he endured in silence. There were little occasional oases, such as boxes from Pennyroyal, or extra revenue now and then from tutoring, but there were many, many days when his healthy young appet.i.te clamored in vain for appeas.e.m.e.nt. On such days came the temptation to borrow from Barnabas the money to finish his course in comfort, but the young conqueror never yielded to this enticement. He grew stronger and st.u.r.dier in spirit after each conflict, but lost something from his young buoyancy and elasticity which he could never regain. His struggles added a touch of grimness to his old sense of humor, but when he was admitted to the bar he was a man in courage, strength, and endurance.

CHAPTER IV

It seemed to David, when he was at the farm again, that in his absence time had stood still, except with Janey. She was a slender slip of a girl, gentle voiced and soft hearted. Her eyes were infinitely blue and lovely, and there was a glad little ring in her voice when she greeted ”Davey.”

M'ri gave a cry of surprised pleasure when she saw her former charge.

He was tall, lithe, supple, and hard-muscled. His face was not very expressive in repose, but showed a quiet strength when lighted by the keenness of his serious, brown eyes and the sweetness of his smile.

His color was a deep-sea tan.

”It seems so good to be alive, Aunt M'ri. I thought I was weaned away from farm life until I bit into one of those snow apples from the old tree by the south corner of the orchard. Then I knew I was home.”

Pennyroyal shed her first visible tear.

”I am glad you are home again, David,” she sniffed. ”You were always such a clean boy.”

”I missed you more'n any one did, David,” acknowledged Miss Rhody. ”Ef I hed been a Catholic I should a felt as ef the confessional hed been took from me. I ain't hed no one to talk secret like to excep' when Joe comes onct a year. He ain't been fer a couple of years, either, but he sent me anuther black dress the other day--silk, like the last one. To think of little Joe Forbes a-growin' up and keepin' me in silk dresses!”

”I'll buy your next one for you,” declared David emphatically.

The next day after his return from college David started his legal labors under the watchful eye of the Judge. He made a leap-frog progress in acquiring an accurate knowledge of legal lore. He worked and waited patiently for the Judge's recognition of his readiness to try his first case, and at last the eventful time came.

”No; there isn't the slightest prospect of his winning it,” the Judge told his wife that night.

”The prosecution has strong evidence, and we have nothing--barely a witness of any account.”

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