Part 27 (2/2)
”Oh, Roger--why--is--is papa losing his mind?”
His quick eye now noted that Fred and Minnie had become so impressed that something dreadful had happened that they were about to make the occasion more painful by their outcries, and he turned smilingly to them, and with a few rea.s.suring words and promises soon quieted their fears. ”Be a brave little woman, Belle,” he at last said to her. ”There is my address, and please promise to let me know if I can do anything for you and for--for Mrs. Jocelyn.”
”Don't go--please don't go yet,” Belle pleaded. ”Papa's looks and words to-night fill me with a strange fear as if something awful might happen.”
”Perhaps if I follow your father I may prevent--”
”Oh, yes, go at once.”
He was intercepted at the door by the entrance of Mr. Jocelyn, who had had ample time in the few brief minutes that had elapsed to fill his system with the subtle stimulant. He now took Roger by the hand most cordially, and said, ”Pardon me, Mr. Atwood. My health has become somewhat impaired of late, and I fear I have just had a rather bad turn; but the air has revived me, and the trouble now has pa.s.sed. I insist that you stay and spend the evening with us.”
”Oh, papa,” cried Belle, rus.h.i.+ng into his arms, ”how you frightened us! Please go into my room, there, and comfort mamma by telling her you are all well again.”
This he did so effectively that he soon led her out smiling through her tears, for her confidence in him was the growth and habit of years, and anything he said to her seemed for the moment true.
And, indeed, the man was so changed that it was hard to realize he was not well. His face, in contrast with its aspect a few moments since, appeared to have regained its natural hue and expression; every trace of irritability had pa.s.sed away, and with his old-time, easy courtesy and seeming frankness he talked so plausibly of it all that Belle and his wife, and even Roger, felt that they had attached undue importance to a mere temporary indisposition.
Mildred made great effort to be cheerful for her father's sake, but the pallor did not pa.s.s from her face, nor the look of deep anxiety from her eyes. The shadow of coming trouble had fallen too heavily upon her, and that the marked exhibition of her father's failing powers should have occurred at this time added to the impression that Roger Atwood was their evil genius. She recalled the fact that he seemingly had been the first exciting cause of her father's unnatural behavior, and now his reappearance was the occasion of the most convincing proof they had yet received that the one upon whom they all depended was apparently failing in both mind and body. Even now, while he was doing his best to rea.s.sure and render happy his family, there was to her perception an unreality in his words and manner. She almost imagined, too, that he feared to meet her eye and shunned doing so. Not in the remotest degree, however, did she suspect the cause of his suddenly varying moods and changed appearance, but regarded all as the result of his misfortunes; and the miserable presentiment grew strong upon her that soon--alas! too soon--she would be the slender reed on which they all would lean. If she could have six months, only, of careful preparation she would not so dread the burden; but if now, or soon, the whole responsibility of the family's support should come upon her and Belle, what would they do? Her heart sank, and her very soul cowered at the prospect. She could not live in the present hour like Belle, but with too keen a foresight realized how dark and threatening was the future.
The night was clear and beautiful, and Roger and Belle went up to the platform built over the roof. Not long afterward there was a knock at the door, and Mr. Ulph appeared. ”Der night vas goot,” he said to Mildred, ”und I vill gif you von leedle glimpse oil hefen if you vould like him.”
The poor girl felt that she certainly needed a glimpse of something bright and rea.s.suring, and wrapping herself warmly she followed her quaint friend to the roof.
Roger grew taciturn as he watched the dim outline of her form and her white, upturned face. She seemed as cold and distant to him as the stars at which she gazed, and he thought dejectedly, ”The least of them have an interest for her greater than I shall ever be able to inspire.”
He overrated her interest in the stars on that occasion, however, for though she did her best to follow the old astronomer's words, her heart was too sorrowful and preoccupied, and her eyes too often blinded by tears, which once glittered so distinctly in the rays of a brilliant planet that her companion stopped in the midst of a sentence and looked at her keenly.
”You vas not habby, my leedle schild,” he said kindly. ”Dere's someding droubling you heart; put you gan no see vay inter der hefens drew dears do' dey vas glear as der lens off my gla.s.s.”
”I fear I shall have to see through tears very often, if I see at all,” Mildred replied, with a low, suppressed sob. ”Forgive me to-night. I DO feel grateful that you are willing to show me--but--I--I--well, I am troubled to-night about something, and I can't control myself. To-morrow night I'll be braver, and will help you. Please don't feel hurt if I leave you now.”
”Ah, mine leedle girl, learn vrom der schtars dot der great laws moost be opeyed, und don't you vorry und vret ober vat you gannot help. Shust you go along quiet und easy like Shupiter oup dere.
Lots off dings vill dry to bull dis vay and dot vay outen der right orpt, put dond you mind 'em, und shust go right schtrait along und not care. You veels too mooch apout oder beoples. Der schtars deach you petter; dey goes right on der own vay und about der own pisness, unless dey vas voolish leedle schtars, like dot von dere dots shust gone to der duyvel vrom runin outen his vay toward der earth.”
She might have reminded him that, if she had acted upon this cold and selfish philosophy, his little child would now be sleeping in a distant cemetery instead of in his warm crib, but she only said, ”Good-night, Mr. Ulph; I'll do better next time,” and she hurried away. She felt that the sun and centre of their family life was pa.s.sing under a strange and lasting eclipse, and the result might be darkness--chaos.
She wiped her eyes carefully, that no traces of grief might appear, and then entered their room. Her mother was putting the children to bed, and her father looking dreamily out of the window. She kissed him, and said briefly, ”I'm tired and think I will retire early so as to be ready for my work.” He made no effort to detain her. She clasped her mother in a momentary pa.s.sionate embrace, and then shut herself up to a night of almost sleepless grief.
CHAPTER XXVI
WAXING AND WANING MANHOOD
Both Belle and Roger saw that Mildred had not been rea.s.sured by Mr. Jocelyn's return and manner; and as they thought it over they found it difficult to account for his strangely varying moods. After a rather lame effort to chat cheerily, Roger bad Belle good-night, and a.s.sured her that she now had a friend always within call.
His uncle's modest residence was in a side street and not far away, but the young fellow walked for hours before applying his night-key to the door. What he had seen and heard that day touched his heart's core, and the influences that were so rapidly developing his manhood were greatly strengthened. For Belle he now had a genuine liking and not a little respect. He saw her foibles clearly, and understood that she was still more a child than a woman, and so should not be judged by the standards proper for those of mature age; but he also saw the foundations on which a n.o.ble womanhood might be built.
<script>