CHAPTER XIV
BLIND MAN'S HOLIDAY
Upon Judge Trent's return to town John Dunham did not disappear in acloud of dust to make his call on Miss Derwent. He took the precautionto telephone, and discovered that she was out of the city.
He felt considerable curiosity regarding his employer's experiences atthe farm, but true to his new and safe policy he asked not a singlequestion. Business required the judge's immediate attention upon hisarrival, but as soon as affairs in the office quieted he remembered thepromise he had made Dunham.
"Now then, boy," he said one morning, "there isn't any reason why youcan't run along to-day and call on Miss Derwent."
"The bird has flown. I 'phoned to the house. She has gone to New Yorkto be a bridesmaid. Isn't coming back till time to leave for Maine."
"H'm. Too bad," returned the judge absent-mindedly.
"Thank you. Don't let it depress you."
"Eh?" looking up; Dunham was bending over the morning mail.
"Ever been in that Casco Bay region?" went on the judge.
"Yes, I yachted along the coast from Bar Harbor to Portland onesummer."
"It's a fine, unspoiled part of the world," remarked the lawyer withunusual pensiveness, setting his hat farther back from his forehead andlooking into space. "When I get a glimpse of it as I did this week, I'mtempted to hasten my retirement, to bid farewell to the squabblingworld, and turn fisherman,--begin to spread nets for mackerel insteadof my fellow men, and trap only such lobsters as will blush in a potinstead of in court."
"Hear, hear," said Dunham. "You must have had good weather upthere,--or else," he added, "fallen in love with your niece."
Judge Trent still looked into space. "Yes," he went on slowly, "move mybooks to the Mill Farm, leave Hannah the house, but not my address, andbegin rising at 4 A.M. for breakfast with Cap'n Lem. Then row out to mypound, take in the fish, and send them to Boston. What retaining feecould compare to the satisfaction of making money that way? Think ofthe sights and sounds, the peace of mind!"
"Yes," said John, "but consider the obstacles."
"There wouldn't be any. I'd leave the good will of the office to you."
"I'm very grateful, but you forget. What would any well-regulated fishsay to afternoon dress at 4 A.M., and wouldn't the wind blow your hatoff?"
"John, you're a frivolous youth," responded the judge thoughtfully;"but," in a warmer tone, "there are some things you do very well.I"--still more warmly--"I have a little commission for you thisafternoon."
Dunham looked up suspiciously.
"It happens very nicely that you don't wish to go to Boston to-day. Ithink it is due Miss Lacey that she should receive news of her niece'swelfare. She knows I've been up there and"--
"Yes, she does know it," interrupted John with emphasis. "She iswaiting with great eagerness to hear your report."
"Precisely," returned the judge mildly. "Now I'll tell you all aboutit."
"Why do you tell me?" inquired Dunham firmly.
"How can you tell Miss Lacey if I don't?"
"I'm not going to tell her."
"Why not? You've been there once."
"My dear Judge Trent," began John impressively, "I was late in comingto it, I know; but I have lately been turning my talents to minding myown business"--
"Which is mine," put in Judge Trent. "It's what I engaged you for."
"Well and good, but not to attend to your pleasures," retorted John,with a grin; "your family and domestic affairs. You will naturallyvisit Miss Lacey this afternoon. You couldn't do less."
The judge scowled. "I might call her up on the 'phone," he saidgloomily.
"You might," returned John, "if you could send her a mind wave whichwould draw her to the corner grocery. I have had one appointment madeby postcard, to speak to her at the corner grocery."
"Call it up, then, and ask them to send for her," commanded the judgecurtly.
"Certainly, if you say so," responded Dunham, "but don't you think ifshe got you on the wire from there, her conversation might be tooentertaining and instructive to the listeners? Her methods at the'phone are--unusual. The day we talked I heard her distinctly throughthe window as well as over the wire."
Judge Trent groaned. "I haven't crossed her threshold in ten years, butI suppose I shall have to do it if you're going to be so confoundedlyobstinate and disobliging."
"Certainly," returned Dunham smoothly. "It's time such unneighborlyhabits were broken up. And say, Judge, ask her to feel round and findout if Miss Derwent doesn't want to see me at her island this summer."
"H'm. Trust you among those lobster traps?" returned the judgeirascibly. "Never. I feel some responsibility to your family."
As Miss Lacey said afterward, it was the greatest mercy that she wasn'tout that evening. She had been inclined to go over to Selina Lane's toget a skirt pattern, but some trifle had prevented her setting forth,so that she sat rocking gently in her sitting-room, enjoying blindman's holiday at about eight o'clock, and reflecting on the contents ofa letter from Miss Derwent which she held in her lap, when she saw inthe dusk an unmistakable figure turn in at her gate.
"Calvin!" she exclaimed, and surprised color mounted to her forehead asshe rose to open the door.
"No lights. I thought you were out," was Judge Trent's greeting.
Now Miss Lacey knew from the etiquette column in "The Ladies' Friend"that it was _de rigueur_ to allow a gentleman caller to take care ofhis own hat, but, as she reflected in a lightning flash, that authorityon manners and morals in "The Ladies' Friend" had never met JudgeTrent. The reluctance with which he now yielded up his boon companionvindicated her lack of confidence. She deposited it on the hall table.
"Step right in, Calvin," she went on. "I hardly know how to wait foryour news. I'll light the lamp in an instant." She proceeded to do so,conscious of a fleeting wish that the visitor would note the brightnessof the chimney and clearness of the flame, and read a lesson to Hannah.She breathed a sigh as she realized the hopelessness of the aspiration.
The judge was standing, waiting in silence for her to be seated. Nomovement or expression showed that the objects about him bore differentassociations from those connected with his office furniture, and if shetook her seat on the haircloth sofa with an idea that he would join hershe was disappointed. He parted his coat-tails and perched upon astraight-backed structure of mahogany, usually avoided by every caller.
"Well, Martha, I haven't much to tell. She's very pretty."
"I told you so, Calvin. I told you that was the trouble."
"Precisely. In addition I must say she has very little use for us,--foryou and me."
Miss Lacey shook her head mournfully. "How did she treat you? Did sheflash up and snap her eyes?"
"No, she shut them with a sort of a take-it-away expression."
"But she is safe now, isn't she? You will let her stay at the farm,won't you?"
"Yes, of course," returned the judge.
"Does she look so ill and pitiful?"
"No, she's picking up. She seems perfectly contented under Thinkright'swing."
"You don't know what that means," returned Miss Martha fervently."After that dreadful talk about the stage, and marrying actors, Ididn't know as she'd be willing to stay in the country with a plain manlike Thinkright."
"She doesn't think he's plain. She considers him a mixture of Adonisand Solomon."
"Very well. Whatever _you_ may see fit to do, Calvin, _I_ shall thankGod on my bended knees," declared Miss Martha devoutly. "To think thather immortal soul isn't lost and our two families disgraced throughour--_own_--_fault_, is a blessing we don't either of us deserve."
"Rub it in, Martha, rub it in," returned the judge.
"No, I'm not one of the nagging kind. I don't intend to rub it in, butI'll own it, once and for all. Go on, please. What else?"
Judge Trent waved his hands. "Nothing else, practically."
"Why, there must be a lot more to tell. If _I'd_ been the one to go upther
e I should have a thousand things to tell you."
The lawyer raised one devout glance toward the ceiling. "I'm sure ofit, Martha; but you know the limitations of a mere man. Beside, Isuppose pretty soon now you will be seeing for yourself. Miss Derwentsaid she should go early this season."
"Why, yes. Next week. I just received the letter to-day. It comes as asurprise, and I shall have to hurry, getting ready to close my house.Edna hadn't expected to be free so quickly, but her parents' plans havechanged, and so hers can. She's been up at the farm, too, and seenSylvia, you know."
"Yes. We all know Sylvia now," returned the judge with grim humor.
"Oh, I wish you would tell me more," begged Miss Martha. "Did she treatyou decently before you came away?"
"Oh, yes. You know Thinkright's peculiar notions. His hell-fire isright here or nowhere, and he's been teaching Sylvia how to keep hertoes out of the flames,--how to climb up out of these lowlands ofsorrow. She was pretty well stranded after years of vagabond life.Excuse me, Martha, but we all knew Sam; and after our rebuff she was ina fit state to swallow Thinkright's cheerful theories whole. I don'tclaim much knowledge of what I can't see or touch, but it wouldn'tsurprise me if the Power that Is let us sidetrack ourselves on purposeto put Sylvia in Thinkright's care. I shouldn't have known how tohandle the results of Sam's training, and if you'd had the job Isuspect you'd have begun at the outside and tried to teach the girlhabits of order and all that. Thinkright and I sat up late one nighttalking the matter over. Sylvia would have driven you to drink, and youwould have driven her to join a traveling circus."
"Calvin!" interrupted Miss Martha, gasping. "I'm a white ribbon"--
"You are, Martha, without a spot or stain; but it wouldn't have beenany use to try to veneer Sylvia, as it were. Now these remarks are notopprobrious. They are designed to comfort you for the apparent mistakesof the trip to Hotel Frisbie. Things have come out better than we couldhave arranged them. Sylvia's guardian angel was holding Thinkright inthe background, like a trump card, as you might say"--
"No, I mightn't, Calvin Trent! You're saying the most awful things!"exclaimed Miss Lacey.
"Well, you'll be up there in a few days," remarked the judge, rising."I just wanted to assure you that Sylvia is doing well, and that youcan be perfectly tranquil about her; so good-by, Martha. I hope youwill have a satisfactory summer."
"We shall see you at Hawk Island, of course," returned Miss Lacey, asthey shook hands. "Edna always counts on it, you know."
"It will perhaps do quite as well if I send Dunham. He is accustomed torepresenting me."
"Oh, is he coming to the Tide Mill?" asked Miss Martha in pleasantsurprise.
"There's no telling. I suppose he'll have to take a vacation somewhere.Young men are so unreasonable nowadays. Imagine me at his age kitingoff to the seashore."
"Why, I'm sure," returned Miss Martha with some consciousness, "we usedto enjoy those drives to Swampscott very much."
"Another incarnation. That was another incarnation," responded thelawyer quickly, passing into the hall where he pounced eagerly upon thehat from which he had endured such ruthless separation. Saying good-byonce more, he departed.
Miss Lacey watched him disappear into the star-lit, fragrant night.
"If _I'd_ married him," she murmured, "he wouldn't wear a coat after itwas shiny at the seams."
Her heart was beating a little faster than usual, and her cheeks werewarm as she closed the door.