Part 42 (1/2)

”Well, we had to do the best we could, that's all. But that Sat.u.r.day was busy, now I tell you. Sunday mornin' broke fine and clear and, after breakfast was over, I remembered Effie and that 'twas her weddin' day.

On the back steps I found her, dressed in all her grandeur, with her packed trunk ready, waitin' for the bridegroom.

”'Ain't come yet, hey, Effie?' says I.

”'No,' says she, smilin' and radiant. 'It's a little early for him yet, I guess.'

”I went off to 'tend to the boarders. At half past ten, when I made the back steps again, she was still there. T'other servants was peekin' out of the kitchen windows, grinnin' and pa.s.sin' remarks.

”'h.e.l.lo!' I calls out. 'Not married yet? What's the matter?'

”She'd stopped smilin', but she was as chipper as ever, to all appearances.

”'I--I guess the horse has gone lame or somethin',' says she. 'He'll be here any time now.'

”There was a cackle from the kitchen windows. I never said nothin'.

She'd made her nest; now let her roost on it.

”But at twelve Butler hadn't hove in sight. Every hand, male and female, on the place, that wa'n't busy, was hangin' around the back of the hotel, waitin' and watchin' and ridiculin' and havin' a high time. Them that had errands made it a p'int to cruise past that way. Lots of the boarders had got wind of the doin's, and they was there, too.

”Effie was settin' on her trunk, tryin' hard to look brave. I went up and spoke to her.

”'Come, my girl,' says I. 'Don't set here no longer. Come into the house and wait. Hadn't you better?'

”'No!' says she, loud and defiant like. 'No, sir! It's all right. He's a little late, that's all. What do you s'pose I care for a lot of jealous folks like those up there?' wavin' her flipper scornful toward the kitchen.

”And then, all to once, she kind of broke down, and says to me, with a pitiful sort of choke in her voice:

”'Oh, Mr. Wingate! I can't stand this. Why DON'T he come?'

”I tried hard to think of somethin' comfortin' to say, but afore I could h'ist a satisfyin' word out of my hatches I heard the noise of a carriage comin'. Effie heard it, too, and so did everybody else. We all looked toward the gate. 'Twas Sim Butler, sure enough, in his buggy and drivin' the same old horse; but settin' alongside of him on the seat was Susannah Debs, the housekeeper. And maybe she didn't look contented with things in gen'ral!

”Butler pulled up his horse by the gate. Him and Susannah bowed to all hands. n.o.body said anything for a minute. Then Effie bounced off the trunk and down them steps.

”'Simmie' she sung out, breathless like, 'Simeon Butler, what does this mean?'

”The Debs woman straightened up on the seat. 'Thank you, marm,' says she, chilly as the top section of an ice chest, 'I'll request you not to call my husband by his first name.'

”It was so still you could have heard yourself grow. Effie turned white as a Sunday tablecloth.

”'Your--husband?' she gasps. 'Your--your HUSBAND?'

”'Yes, marm,' purrs the housekeeper. 'My husband was what I said. Mr.

Butler and me have just been married.'

”'Sorry, Effie, old girl,' puts in Butler, so sa.s.sy I'd love to have preached his fun'ral sermon. 'Too bad, but fust love's strongest, you know. Susie and me was engaged long afore you come to town.'

”THEN such a haw-haw and whoop bust from the kitchen and fo'castle as you never heard. For a jiffy poor Effie wilted right down. Then she braced up and her black eyes snapped.

”'I wish you joy of your bargain, marm,' says she to Susannah. 'You'd ought to be proud of it. And as for YOU,' she says, swingin' round toward the rest of the help, 'I--'