Part 5 (1/2)

Sam looked down at his hands clasped about his knees, and blushed faintly. ”Oh, nothing; I was very young when that happened.”

”How did it happen?” she asked absently. It was often possible to start Sam talking and then think her own thoughts without interruption.

”Why, I was about twelve, I believe,” Sam said, ”and Miss Ellen Bailey--she used to teach school here, then she got married and went out West;--she gave me a little gold image of Pasht, at least I thought it was gold. It was one of those things you ladies wear on your watch-chains, you know,”

”Yes?” she said indolently.

”Well, I took a tremendous fancy to it. But it seems it wasn't gold, it was bra.s.s, and somebody told me so; I think it was Miss Ellen herself. I was so disappointed, I didn't want to live--queer! I can remember now just how I felt; a sort of sinking, here;” Sam laid his hand on his breast, ”So I decided to throw myself out of the window. I did; but unfortunately--”

”You threw yourself out of the window!” she is interrupted horrified.

Sam laughed. ”Oh, well, I wasn't successful: I continued to live.

Unfortunately my trousers caught on the grape trellis under the window, and there I hung! It must have been pretty funny--though I didn't think so at the time. First place, I tore my wrist on a nail-- that's the scar; and then father caught me and sent me to bed for being a fool; so I didn't gain anything.” His lip drooped. His feeling for his father was a candid mixture of amus.e.m.e.nt and contempt.

”But do you always act on the spur of the moment?” she said astonished.

Sam laughed and said he supposed so. ”I am a good deal of a fool,” he added simply.

”Well,” she said sighing, ”it's dangerous to be like that. I know, because I--I am a good deal of a fool myself.” Then again, abruptly, she changed the subject. ”What do you think? I'm going to have some company!”

Sam frowned. ”Your brother?”

”No, oh no; not--Mr. Pryor.” Then she told him that Dr. Lavendar had asked her if she would look after a little boy for him for a few weeks.

Sam was not responsive. Little boys were a great deal of trouble, he said.

”Come now; how long since--”

Sam's limpid deer's-eyes reproached her silently.

”How shall I amuse him?” she said.

And Sam eager to serve her promised to find a pair of rabbits for the child. ”I used to like rabbits when I was young,” he explained.

At last, after his hostess had swallowed many yawns, Sam reluctantly said good night. He went bounding down the hill in the darkness, across the fields, through the woods. In the starlight, the great world lay dim and lovely before him--it belonged to him! He felt the joyous buffet of the night wind upon his face, the brush of boughs against his shoulder, the scent of young ferns, and the give of the spongy earth under his feet; he sprang in long leaps over the gra.s.s, the tears were wet upon his fresh cheeks, he sang aloud. But he did not know what he sang; in his young breast, Love, like some warm living thing, stirred, and lifted glorious wings and drove his voice throbbing and exultant to his lips! As he came down Main Street, the church clock struck eleven. But it might have struck twelve and he would not have been disturbed.

Standing in the doorway of the Wright house in thunderous silence the senior warden, lamp in hand awaited his son. As Sam entered, the silence broke into a flash of crackling and scathing contempt.

”It does not occur to you, sir, I suppose, that a lady may find your society tiresome? It is after eleven!”

Sam smiling to himself hung up his hat. He was reflecting that he must see about those rabbits at once.

”You will understand, sir, if you please, that while you do me the honor to live under my roof you will return to it at night at a respectable hour. I will not sit up for you in this way. You will be in at ten o'clock. Do you hear?”

”Yes, sir,” said Sam; and added with sudden awakening of interest, ”if you would let me have a key, father, I--”

”I will not let you have a key! I will have no boy entering my house at midnight with a key! Do you understand?”

”Yes, sir,” Sam murmured falling back into his own thoughts.

Mr. Wright, still talking, stood at the foot of the stairs so that his son could not pa.s.s him. Sam yawned, then noticed how in oratorical denunciation his father's long upper lip curved like the beak of a bird of prey; behind his hand he tried to arch his own lip in the same manner. He really did not hear what was said to him; he only sighed with relief when it was over and he was allowed to go up-stairs and tumble sleepily into bed.