Part 40 (1/2)

”Brother Tombs, speaking of John March, you know now risky it is for anybody--unless it's you--to say anything to him. Oh, I dare say he's changed, but when he hasn't been converted two months, nor a member of the church three weeks, we mustn't expect him to have the virtues of an old Christian.”

”He's changed mo'n I'm at libbety to tell you, Brother Garnet. He's renounced dancing.”

”Yes?--Indeed! He's quit dancing. But still he carries two revolvers.”

”Why, Brother John Wesley, I--that's so. I've spoke to John about that, but--the fact is----”

Garnet smiled. ”His life's in constant danger--that's my very point. The bad weather's protected him thus far, but if it should last five years without a break, still you know that as soon as it fairs off----”

”_Uv_ co'se! Enos's kinsfolks 'll be layin' faw him behind some bush aw sett'n' fire to his house; an' so what shall he do, brother, if we say he----”

”Oh, let him shoot a Yahoo or two if he must, but I think you ought to tell him he's committing a criminal folly in asking that young Yankee, Mr. Fair, to stop with him at Widewood when he comes here next week!”

”Why, Brother Garnet! Why, supposin' that young stranger should get shot!”

”Yes, or if he should no more than see March shot or shot at! What an impression he'd carry back North with him! It's an outrage on our whole people, sir, and G.o.d knows!--I speak reverently, my dear brother--we've suffered enough of that sort of slander! I'd tell him, myself, but--this must be between us, of course----”

”Why, of co'se, Brother Garnet,” murmured the Pastor and bent one ear.

”It's a pure piece of selfish business rivalry on John's part toward me.

He's asked Fair to his house simply to keep him away from Rosemont.”

”Why, Brother Garnet! Rosemont's right where he'd ought to go to!”

”In John's own interest!” said Garnet.

”In John's--you're right, my brother! I'm suprised he don't see it so!”

”O--I'm not! He's a terribly overrated chap, Brother Tombs. Fact is--I say it in the sincerest friends.h.i.+p for him--John's got no real talents and not much good sense--though one or two of his most meddlesome friends have still less.” The Major began to gather up the reins.

”Well, I'll try to see him, Brother Garnet. I met him yeste'day--Look here! I reckon that young man's not goin' to stop with him after all. He told me yeste'day he was going to put a friend into Swanee Hotel because Sisteh March felt too feeble, aw fearful, aw somethin', an' he felt bound to stand his expenses.”

”And so he”--the Major paused pleasantly. ”How much did you lend him?”

”Aw! Brother Garnet, I didn't mean you to know that! He had to put shuttehs on his sitt'n'-room windows, too, you know, to quiet Sisteh March's ve'y natu'al fears. I only promised to lend him a small amount if he should need it.”

”O, he'll need it,” said the Major, and included Barbara in his broad smile. ”Still, I hope you'll let him have it. If he doesn't return it to you I will; I loved his father. John should have come to me, Brother Tombs, as he's always done. I say this to you privately, you know. I'll consider the loan practically made to me, for we simply can't let Fair go to Widewood, even if John puts shutters on all his windows.”

Again the speaker lifted his reins and the Parson drew back with a bow to Barbara, when Johanna spoke and the whole group stared after two townward-bound hors.e.m.e.n.

”Those are mountain people, right now,” said the Parson.

”Yes,” replied Garnet, ”but they're no kin to Enos.” He moved on to Halliday's gate.

It was the fourteenth of the month. The Major stayed in town for the evening mail and drove home after dark, alone, but complacent, almost jovial. He had got three valentines.

XLIV.

ST. VALENTINE'S: EVENING