CHAPTER 23
OWEN FORD COMES
One evening Miss Cornelia telephoned down to Anne.
"The writer man has just arrived here. I'm going to drive him down toyour place, and you can show him the way over to Leslie's. It'sshorter than driving round by the other road, and I'm in a mortalhurry. The Reese baby has gone and fallen into a pail of hot water atthe Glen, and got nearly scalded to death and they want me rightoff--to put a new skin on the child, I presume. Mrs. Reese is alwaysso careless, and then expects other people to mend her mistakes. Youwon't mind, will you, dearie? His trunk can go down tomorrow."
"Very well," said Anne. "What is he like, Miss Cornelia?"
"You'll see what he's like outside when I take him down. As for whathe's like inside only the Lord who made him knows THAT. I'm not goingto say another word, for every receiver in the Glen is down."
"Miss Cornelia evidently can't find much fault with Mr. Ford's looks,or she would find it in spite of the receivers," said Anne. "Iconclude therefore, Susan, that Mr. Ford is rather handsome thanotherwise."
"Well, Mrs. Doctor, dear, I DO enjoy seeing a well-looking man," saidSusan candidly. "Had I not better get up a snack for him? There is astrawberry pie that would melt in your mouth."
"No, Leslie is expecting him and has his supper ready. Besides, I wantthat strawberry pie for my own poor man. He won't be home till late,so leave the pie and a glass of milk out for him, Susan."
"That I will, Mrs. Doctor, dear. Susan is at the helm. After all, itis better to give pie to your own men than to strangers, who may beonly seeking to devour, and the doctor himself is as well-looking a manas you often come across."
When Owen Ford came Anne secretly admitted, as Miss Cornelia towed himin, that he was very "well-looking" indeed. He was tall andbroad-shouldered, with thick, brown hair, finely-cut nose and chin,large and brilliant dark-gray eyes.
"And did you notice his ears and his teeth, Mrs. Doctor, dear?" queriedSusan later on. "He has got the nicest-shaped ears I ever saw on aman's head. I am choice about ears. When I was young I was scaredthat I might have to marry a man with ears like flaps. But I need nothave worried, for never a chance did I have with any kind of ears."
Anne had not noticed Owen Ford's ears, but she did see his teeth, ashis lips parted over them in a frank and friendly smile. Unsmiling,his face was rather sad and absent in expression, not unlike themelancholy, inscrutable hero of Anne's own early dreams; but mirth andhumor and charm lighted it up when he smiled. Certainly, on theoutside, as Miss Cornelia said, Owen Ford was a very presentable fellow.
"You cannot realise how delighted I am to be here, Mrs. Blythe," hesaid, looking around him with eager, interested eyes. "I have an oddfeeling of coming home. My mother was born and spent her childhoodhere, you know. She used to talk a great deal to me of her old home.I know the geography of it as well as of the one I lived in, and, ofcourse, she told me the story of the building of the house, and of mygrandfather's agonised watch for the Royal William. I had thought thatso old a house must have vanished years ago, or I should have come tosee it before this."
"Old houses don't vanish easily on this enchanted coast," smiled Anne."This is a 'land where all things always seem the same'--nearly always,at least. John Selwyn's house hasn't even been much changed, andoutside the rose-bushes your grandfather planted for his bride areblooming this very minute."
"How the thought links me with them! With your leave I must explorethe whole place soon."
"Our latch-string will always be out for you," promised Anne. "And doyou know that the old sea captain who keeps the Four Winds light knewJohn Selwyn and his bride well in his boyhood? He told me their storythe night I came here--the third bride of the old house."
"Can it be possible? This IS a discovery. I must hunt him up."
"It won't be difficult; we are all cronies of Captain Jim. He will beas eager to see you as you could be to see him. Your grandmothershines like a star in his memory. But I think Mrs. Moore is expectingyou. I'll show you our 'cross-lots' road."
Anne walked with him to the house up the brook, over a field that wasas white as snow with daisies. A boat-load of people were singing faracross the harbor. The sound drifted over the water like faint,unearthly music wind-blown across a starlit sea. The big light flashedand beaconed. Owen Ford looked around him with satisfaction.
"And so this is Four Winds," he said. "I wasn't prepared to find itquite so beautiful, in spite of all mother's praises. Whatcolors--what scenery--what charm! I shall get as strong as a horse inno time. And if inspiration comes from beauty, I should certainly beable to begin my great Canadian novel here."
"You haven't begun it yet?" asked Anne.
"Alack-a-day, no. I've never been able to get the right central ideafor it. It lurks beyond me--it allures--and beckons--and recedes--Ialmost grasp it and it is gone. Perhaps amid this peace andloveliness, I shall be able to capture it. Miss Bryant tells me thatyou write."
"Oh, I do little things for children. I haven't done much since I wasmarried. And--I have no designs on a great Canadian novel," laughedAnne. "That is quite beyond me."
Owen Ford laughed too.
"I dare say it is beyond me as well. All the same I mean to have a tryat it some day, if I can ever get time. A newspaper man doesn't havemuch chance for that sort of thing. I've done a good deal of shortstory writing for the magazines, but I've never had the leisure thatseems to be necessary for the writing of a book. With three months ofliberty I ought to make a start, though--if I could only get thenecessary motif for it--the SOUL of the book."
An idea whisked through Anne's brain with a suddenness that made herjump. But she did not utter it, for they had reached the Moore house.As they entered the yard Leslie came out on the veranda from the sidedoor, peering through the gloom for some sign of her expected guest.She stood just where the warm yellow light flooded her from the opendoor. She wore a plain dress of cheap, cream-tinted cotton voile, withthe usual girdle of crimson. Leslie was never without her touch ofcrimson. She had told Anne that she never felt satisfied without agleam of red somewhere about her, if it were only a flower. To Anne,it always seemed to symbolise Leslie's glowing, pent-up personality,denied all expression save in that flaming glint. Leslie's dress wascut a little away at the neck and had short sleeves. Her arms gleamedlike ivory-tinted marble. Every exquisite curve of her form wasoutlined in soft darkness against the light. Her hair shone in it likeflame. Beyond her was a purple sky, flowering with stars over theharbor.
Anne heard her companion give a gasp. Even in the dusk she could seethe amazement and admiration on his face.
"Who is that beautiful creature?" he asked.
"That is Mrs. Moore," said Anne. "She is very lovely, isn't she?"
"I--I never saw anything like her," he answered, rather dazedly. "Iwasn't prepared--I didn't expect--good heavens, one DOESN'T expect agoddess for a landlady! Why, if she were clothed in a gown ofsea-purple, with a rope of amethysts in her hair, she would be averitable sea-queen. And she takes in boarders!"
"Even goddesses must live," said Anne. "And Leslie isn't a goddess.She's just a very beautiful woman, as human as the rest of us. DidMiss Bryant tell you about Mr. Moore?"
"Yes,--he's mentally deficient, or something of the sort, isn't he?But she said nothing about Mrs. Moore, and I supposed she'd be theusual hustling country housewife who takes in boarders to earn anhonest penny."
"Well, that's just what Leslie is doing," said Anne crisply. "And itisn't altogether pleasant for her, either. I hope you won't mind Dick.If you do, please don't let Leslie see it. It would hurt her horribly.He's just a big baby, and sometimes a rather annoying one."
"Oh, I won't mind him. I don't suppose I'll be much in the houseanyhow, except for meals. But what a shame it all is! Her life mustbe a hard one."
"It is. But she doesn't like to be pitied."
Leslie had gone back into the house
and now met them at the front door.She greeted Owen Ford with cold civility, and told him in abusiness-like tone that his room and his supper were ready for him.Dick, with a pleased grin, shambled upstairs with the valise, and OwenFord was installed as an inmate of the old house among the willows.