Part 11

“Well, I WOULD like to see the hundred bombs bursting at once and Vulcan at his forge!” said Miss Brown.

Thus the matter arranged itself. Tim waited with the lady while Nelson went for the horse, nor was it until afterward that Miss Brown wondered why the lad did not go instead of the man. But Tim had his own reasons. No sooner was Nelson out of earshot than he began: “Say, Miss Brown, I can tell you something.”

“Yes?”

“That Richards is no good; but you can't get Uncle to see it. At least it will take time. If you'll help me we can get him round in time. Won't you please not sell us out for six months and give me a show? I'll see you get your interest and your money, too.”

“You?” Miss Brown involuntarily took a business attitude, with her arms akimbo, and eyed the boy.

“Yes, ma'am, me. I ain't so very old, but I know all about the business. I got all the figures down--how much we raise and what we got last year. I can fetch them to you so you can see. He is a good farmer, and he will catch on to the melons pretty quick. We'll do better next year, and I'll try to keep him from belonging to things and spending money; and if he won't lend to anybody or start in raising a new kind of crop just when we get the melons going, he will make money sure. He is awful good and honest. All the trouble with him is he needs somebody to take care of him. If Aunt Lizzie had been alive he never would have lent that dead-beat Richards that money. He ought to get married.”

Miss Brown did not feel called on to say anything. Tim continued in a judicial way: “He is awful good and kind, always gets up in the morning to make the fire if I have got something else to do; and he'd think everything his wife did was the best in the world; and if he had somebody to take care of him he'd make money. I don't suppose YOU would think of it?” This last in an insinuating tone, with evident anxiety.

“Well, I never!” said Miss Brown.

Whether she was more offended or amused she couldn't tell; and she stood staring at him by the electric light. To her amazement the hard little face began to twitch. “I didn't mean to mad you,” Tim grunted, with a quiver in his rough voice. “I've been listening to every word you said, and I thought you were so sensible you'd talk over things without nonsense. Of course I knew he'd have to come and see you Saturday nights, and take you buggy riding, and take you to the theatre, and all such things--first. But I thought we could sorter fix it up between ourselves. I've taken care of him ever since Aunt Lizzie died, and I did my best he shouldn't lend that money, but I couldn't help it; and I did keep him from marrying a widow woman with eight children, who kept telling him how much her poor fatherless children needed a man; and I never did see anybody I was willing--before--and it's--it's so lonesome without Aunt Lizzie!” He choked and frowned. Poor Tim, who had sold so many melons to women and seen so much of back doors and kitchen humors that he held the sex very cheap, he did not realize how hard he would find it to talk of the one woman who had been kind to him! He turned red with shame over his own weakness.

“You poor little chap!” cried Miss Brown; “you poor little sharp, innocent chap!” The hand she laid on his shoulder patted it as she went on: “Never mind, if I can't marry your uncle, I can help you take care of him. You're a real nice boy, and I'm not mad; don't you think it. There's your uncle now.”

Nelson found her so gentle that he began to have qualms lest his carefully prepared speech should hurt her feelings. But there was no help for it now. “I have thought over your kind offer to me, ma'am,” said he, humbly, “and I got a proposition to make to you. It is your honest due to have your farm, yes, ma'am. Well, I know a man would like to buy it; I'll sell it to him, and pay you your money.”

“But that wasn't my proposal.”

“I know it, ma'am. I honor you for your kindness; but I can't risk what--what might be another person's idea of duty about Richards. Our consciences ain't all equally enlightened, you know.”

Miss Brown did not answer a word.

They drove along the streets where the lanterns were fading. Tim grew uneasy, she was silent so long. On the brow of the hill she indicated a side street and told them to stop the horse before a little brown house. One of the windows was a dim square of red.

“It isn't quite so lonesome coming home to a light,” said Miss Brown.

As Nelson cramped the wheel to jump out to help her from the vehicle, the light from the electric arc fell full on his handsome face and showed her the look of compassion and admiration, there.

“Wait one moment,” she said, detaining him with one firm hand. “I've got something to say to you. Let Richards go for the present; all I ask of you about him is that you will do nothing until we can find out if he is so bad off. But, Mr. Forrest, I can do better for you about that mortgage. Mr. Lossing will take it for three years for a relative of his and pay me the money. I told him the story.”

“And YOU will get the money all right?”

“Just the same. I was only trying to help you a little by the other way, and I failed. Never mind.”

“I can't tell you how you make me feel,” said Nelson.

“Please let him bring you some melons to-morrow and make a stagger at it, though,” said Tim.

“Can I?” Nelson's eyes shone.

“If you want to,” said Miss Brown. She laughed; but in a moment she smiled.

All the way home Nelson saw the same face of Failure between the old mare's white ears; but its grim lineaments were softened by a smile, a smile like Miss Brown's.

TOMMY AND THOMAS

IT was while Harry Lossing was at the High School that Mrs. Carriswood first saw Tommy Fitzmaurice. He was not much to see, a long lad of sixteen who had outgrown his jackets and was not yet grown to his ears.

At this period Mrs. Fitzmaurice was his barber, and she, having been too rash with the shears in one place, had snipped off the rest of his curly black locks “to match;” until he showed a perfect convict's poll, giving his ears all the better chance, and bringing out the rather square contour of his jaws to advantage. He had the true Irish-Norman face; a skin of fine texture, fair and freckled, high cheekbones, straight nose, and wide blue eyes that looked to be drawn with ink, because of their sharply pencilled brows and long, thick, black lashes. But the feature that Mrs. Carriswood noticed was Tommy's mouth, a flexible and delicately cut mouth, of which the lips moved lightly in speaking and seldom were quite in repose.