There is no plan or plot to make you feel uncomfortable.We are plain village people here, and you are wealthy and have been used to associating with those of your class.Every one in Denboro knew that when you came, and they have been shy of intruding where they might not be welcome.Then there was that matter of the Lane here.""Oh, that precious Lane! I wish I had never seen it.""I have wished that a number of times in the past few months.But it is here and the question overshadows everything else in the village just now.It does not seem of much importance to you, perhaps; perhaps it is not so very important to me; but--"Again she interrupted me.
"I think it is important enough to make you forget--ordinary courtesy," she declared."Yes, courtesy.DON'T look at me like that! You know what I mean.As I told you before, I am not blind.
Do credit me with some intelligence.All the way during this cheerful walk of ours you scarcely spoke a word.Did you suppose Idid not know what was troubling you? I saw how that Captain Dean looked at you.I saw those people staring from the post-office door.I knew what you were afraid of their saying: that you are altogether too companionable with Father and me; that you intend selling the land to us, after all.That is what you thought they would say and you were afraid--AFRAID of their gossip.Oh, it is humiliating! And, for a time, I really thought you were different from the rest and above such things."I began to feel as if I were once more a small boy receiving a lecture from the governess.
"I am not at all afraid of them, Miss Colton," I protested.
"You are.Why? Your conscience is clear, isn't it? You don't intend selling out to my father?""Certainly not."
"Then why should you care what people like that may think? Oh, you weary me! I admired you for your independence.There are few persons with the courage to face my father as you have done and Iadmired you for it.I would not have had you sell us the land for ANYTHING.""You would not?" I gasped.
"Certainly not! I have been on your side all the time.If you had sold I should have thought you, like all the rest, holding back merely for a higher price.I respected you for the fight you were ******.You must have known it.If I had not why do you suppose Igave you that hint about the Development Company?""Goodness knows!" I exclaimed, devoutly.
"And I was sure you could not be bribed by an offer of a position in Father's office.It was not really a bribe--Father has, for some unexplainable reason, taken a fancy to you--but I knew you would believe it to be bribery.That is why I was so positive in telling him that you would not accept.And now you--oh, when Ithink of how I have LOWERED myself! How I have stooped to...
But there! I am sure that supper of yours must be waiting.Pray condescend to convey my regrets to the faithful--what is her name?
Odd that I should forget a name like THAT.Oh, yes! Dorinda!--Pray convey my regrets to the faithful Dorinda for being unwittingly the cause of the delay, and assure her that the offense will NOT be repeated.Good-by, Mr.Paine."She walked off, between the granite posts and along the curved drive.This time I made no attempt to call her back.The storm had burst so unexpectedly and had developed into such a hurricane that I had had time to do little more than bend my head before it.
But I had had time enough to grow angry.I would not have called her back then for the world.She had insulted me, not once only, but again and again.I stood and watched her go on her way, and then I turned and went on my own.
The parting had come.The acquaintance was broken off; not precisely as I had intended it to be broken, but broken, nevertheless, and ended for good and all.I was glad of it.There would be no more fishing excursions, no more gifts of flowers and books, no more charity calls.The "common fellow" was free from the disturbing influence and he was glad of it--heartily glad of it.
Yet his gladness was not as apparent to others as it should, by all that was consistent, have been.Lute, evidently, observed no traces of transcendent happiness, when I encountered him in the back yard, beside the woodpile, sharpening the kindling hatchet with a whetstone, a process peculiarly satisfying to his temperament because it took such a long time to achieve a noticeable result.
"Hello, Ros!" he hailed."Why! what ails you?""Ails me?" I repeated, crossly."Nothing ails me, of course.""Well, I'm glad to hear it.You look as if you'd lost your last friend.""I haven't lost any friends.Far from it.""Nobody's dead, then?"
"No.Though I could find some who are half dead without trying very hard."More perfectly good sarca** wasted.Lute inquired eagerly if Imeant old Mrs.Lobelia Glover."I heard yesterday she was pretty feeble," he added."'Tain't to be expected she'll last a long spell, at her age.Doctor Quimby says she had a spine in her back for twenty years."I made no comment upon poor Mrs.Glover's surprising affliction.Imerely grunted and went into the house.Dorinda looked at me curiously.
"What's the trouble?" she asked.
"Trouble! There isn't any trouble.You and Lute seem to be looking for trouble.""Don't have to look far to find it, in this world.Anything wrong at the bank?""No."
"Um-hm.Settin' so long on the fence make you uneasy? I told you the pickets would wear through if you roosted on 'em too long.""There is nothing the matter, I tell you.How is Mother?""She ain't any wuss.If 'twan't an impossibility I'd say she was better the last month than I'd seen her since she was took.Nellie Dean called on her this afternoon.""Humph! I should think a next week's bride would be too busy to call on any one except possibly the dressmaker.""Um-hm.Well, Nellie looks as if she'd been callin' on the dressmaker pretty often.Anyhow she looked worried and Olindy Cahoon's dressmakin' gabble is enough to worry anybody.She left a note for you.""Who? Olinda?"
