Elmiry Ann's Valentine
"Si," said Mrs. Safford, "didn't Elmiry Ann Rogers come in here to-dayto buy a valentine?"
"Yep," replied the postmaster, without interest. "One of themtwenty-five cent ones, with lace onto it."
"I thought so," grunted the wife of his bosom.
"How, now, Aureely? Why ain't she a right to buy a valentine if shewants one?"
"She's a fine one to be buyin' sech trash, when everybody in TheCorners knows she ain't hardly got enough to keep soul and bodytogether, let alone clothes and valentines. I knowed she'd done it,jest as well as if I'd see her do it, 'cause she aint' missed comin' inon the twelfth of February sence we come here, and that is nigh ontofourteen year."
"Well," said Silas, after a long silence, "what of it?"
"Si Safford! do you mean to tell me you've been postmaster for fourteenyear an' ain't never noticed that Elmiry Ann Rogers _gets_ a valentineevery year?"
"No," replied Silas, turning to meet a customer, "I ain't never noticedit."
"Men do be the beatenest," exclaimed Aurelia under her breath.
"Evenin', Mr. Weeks."
"Evenin' Mis' Safford."
"Moderatin' any?"
"Nope, looks like snow, but I reckon it's too cold."
For perhaps ten minutes the two men talked the dull aimlesscommonplaces of the country store. The single lamp with a reflectorbehind it, made all three faces unlovely and old. John Weeks was a tallstrapping fellow, slightly stooped, and about fifty years old. His hairwas grey at the temples, but his eyes had a kindly twinkle that biddefiance to time.
He bought some brown sugar and went out. One could not blame him forseeking other surroundings, for even at its best, the post-office andgeneral store at The Corners was a gloomy place.
Two well-worn steps that creaked noisily were the links between it andthe street. The door opened by an old-fashioned latch, worn with muchhandling, and inside, a motley smell greeted the inquiring nostrilunwonted to the place.
The curious sickish odour was a compound of many ingredients blendedinto one by the all-powerful and all-pervading kerosene. The floor,moderately clean, was covered with sand and saw-dust, which wasoccasionally swept out and replaced by a fresh layer.
On the right, as you went in, was a small show-case filled with brightcoloured candies, displayed in the original packages. Other boxes werepiled in the window and still others on the shelf. Within a radiusof twenty steps one could buy calico, muslin, ruled stationery, orgroceries and kerosene, as he might choose.
Once a year, the commonplace merchandise gave way to "Christmasnovelties," and during the first two weeks in February the candyshow-case was filled with the pretty nonsensical bits of paper calledvalentines, with a pile of "comics" on top.
Every year on the twelfth of February, as Mrs. Safford had said,Elmiry Ann Rogers came in and bought a valentine. Every year on thefourteenth of February, as the postmaster's keen-eyed wife had noted,Elmiry Ann Rogers had received a valentine. It was no comic, either,such as one might send to an unprepossessing old maid of forty, but agorgeous affair of lace paper and cupids, in an ornate wrapping, formore than once, Elmiry's trembling fingers had torn the envelop a bit,as if she could not wait until she reached home.
In many a country town, the buyer of the valentines would have beenknown as "Ol' Mis' Rogers," but The Corners, lazy, rather than tactful,still clung to the name the pretty girl had gone by.
There was little in Elmiry to recall the graceful figure that was wontto appear in pink muslin or red merino at church and prayer meeting,for the soft curves had become angles, the erect shoulders were bent,and the laughing eyes were now filled with a dumb pathetic sadness.Elmiry's hair had once fallen in soft curls about her face, but now itwas twisted into a hard little knot at the back of her head. The whitedimpled hands were dark and scrawny now, but people still spoke of heras "Elmiry Ann."
The morning of the thirteenth dawned cloudy and cold. The postmasterwent out of town on business, and his wife had her hands full. Shemoved briskly from one part of the store to the other, making change,rectifying mistakes, and attending to the mail.
At noon a crowd of children came in after "comics" and John Weeks stoodby, watching aimlessly.
"You want any valentines, Mr. Weeks?" asked Mrs. Safford.
"Reckon not, I've been growed up too long for that."
"Sho, now! You ain't much older 'n Elmiry Ann Rogers, an' she buys oneevery year. It's a nice one too--twenty-five cents."
"I ain't never sent but one," said Mr. Weeks, after a silence.
"That so? Well, some folks buys 'em right along. Elmiry Ann Rogers getsone every year jest as regler as a tea party."
"Who'd you advise me to send one to?"
"Don't make no difference to us, so we sells 'em," laughed Mrs.Safford. "Stock's runnin' down now, but if there's any lef they can bekep' over. We've had one now for goin' on five year. It's a fifty centone, an it's pretty too. Elmiry's looked at it every year but I guessit's too expensive."
"Lemme see it."
It was the same size as the others but it had more lace paper on it andmore cupids. Weeks was evidently pleased with it and paid the fiftycents without a murmur.
"Makes me feel sorter silly to be buyin' one o' them things," he saidawkwardly, "but I'm allers glad to do a favour for a friend an' I'lltake it off your hands."
"Much obliged," returned Mrs. Safford. "Who you lowin' to send it to?"
Weeks considered carefully. "I've got a little nephew over toTaylorville," he said, "and I reckon he'd be right pleased with it."Another avalanche of children descended upon the valentine counter andin the confusion he escaped.
Busy as she was, Mrs. Safford found time to meditate upon Elmiry andher romance. "They do say that John Weeks used to set up some withElmiry," she thought, "and then it was broke off, but there ain'teither of 'em married. I sh'd think he'd want a woman to do for him,and poor Elmiry--her little house is most eat up by the mortgage.The squire was a-sayin' the other day that he thought she'd soon beon the town 'cause she ain't paid the intrust lately. An her a-buyin'valentines! La sakes! Well, it takes all kinds of people to make up aworld!"
Early in the afternoon she sorted the mail, as usual, but there wasnothing for Elmiry. A strange fact of the case was that the valentinehad always come from The Corners. Mrs. Safford began to hope Elmirywould not be disappointed, then the latch clicked, and she came in.
"I want half a pound of dried beef, Mis' Safford," Elmiry said, "an'a quarter of a pound of rice, an' a jug of merlasses, an' a spool ofblack thread, number sixty."
"Would you mind writin' down your order, Mis' Rogers? I'll send Si overwith it when he comes, 'cause I've got to get this mail off in a fewminutes an' I ain't got time."
Elmiry seemed disappointed, but wrote her needs on a piece of wrappingpaper, using the short blunt pencil which was suspended by a piece oftwine from the show-case. Her writing was cramped, old-fashioned, andas distinctive as it was odd.
When Mrs. Safford had time to look at the order, she became greatlyexcited. "If that ain't the beatenest?" she said to herself. "Who'dhave thought it? 'Course, maybe it ain't, but I'm goin' to make sure!"
Late in the afternoon Elmiry came in again, and as before, she was theonly customer. "I jest thought I'd take my things, Mis' Safford," shesaid by way of explanation, "'cause I want to use some merlasses rightaway and 't ain't no need to trouble Mr. Safford, if you've got time todo 'em up."
"I've got 'em all ready, Elmiry." So Miss Rogers arranged the bundlesunder her shawl and Mrs. Safford caught sight of something white, heldtightly in the dark scrawny hand.
"'T want thread, nor rice," she thought, as Elmiry went out, "and Iknow 't want her handkerchief. I reckon 'twas her valentine she waslowin' to send away, and didn't, 'cause she thought I'd look. She ain'tgoin' to fool me though."
Dusk brought the storm which had threatened for two days, and a bitternorth wind came with it. In an hour the world was white, and bela
tedfoot-falls were muffled by the snow. At nine the store closed, and athalf-past nine, Elmiry Ann Rogers wrapped her threadbare shawl aroundher and started down the street to the post-office.
It was a difficult journey, for the snow was three inches deep and wasstill coming down, but Elmiry knew the way so well that she could havegone with her eyes shut, if necessary.
She was stiff with the cold when she got there, and was fumbling withthe opening in the door marked "mail" when a deep masculine voice ather elbow startled her into an impulsive little scream.
"Why, Miss Rogers," it said, "what are you doin' here this time o'night?"
"My goodness, Mr. Weeks, how you scairt me!" she answered trembling.
"You shouldn't be out a night like this," he continued, "it ain'tfittin'."
"I--I jest come out to mail a letter,--an important letter," saidElmiry weakly.
"Why that's funny--so did I! Strange that we should meet, ain't it? Andnow, Miss Rogers, I'm goin' to take you home."
"Oh, you mustn't, Mr. Weeks," cried Elmiry in a panic, "I'd feel wickedto take you out of your way a night like this, and 't'aint but a fewsteps anyway."
"Sakes alive! Elmiry, how you talk! I'm a-goin' to take you home and wemight as well start. Come."
He slipped her arm through his and turned down the street.
Elmiry felt a burning blush on her cold cheeks, for it had been years,more than she cared to remember, since any one had taken her home.
As they went on, Mr. Weeks did the talking and Elmiry endeavoured tocollect her scattered senses. There was something strangely sweet inthe feeling that she had a protector, and she wondered dimly how shehad ever had the courage to take the trip alone. When they reached herdoor, she turned to bid him good-night, but he seemed to take no noticeof it.
"I guess I'll go in an' set a spell," he remarked. "I'm quite chill."Elmiry had closed the door of the kitchen and turned up the light whichwas burning dimly before she remembered she had no fire. Mr. Weeksopened the stove door and found the interior dark and cold. Then helooked behind the stove, but there was neither wood nor coal and thefloor was spotlessly clean.
"Why, Elmiry," he said, "I'll go right out and get you an armful ofwood. It's been stormin' so you've got out. I'll bring in a lot of it."
"No, no," she cried. "Please don't! It's too late for a fire to-nightand in the mornin' it'll be clear! Don't go!"
In her tone there was something more than polite anxiety to save himthe effort, and he changed the subject. They talked commonplaces untilhe felt the cold in spite of his warm clothing. She still wore hershawl and looked pitifully thin and weak.
"Ain't you cold?" he asked.
"No," replied Elmiry with great dignity. "I'm warm-blooded an' mostpeople keep their houses too hot. It ain't healthy."
Mr. Weeks agreed and rose to go. She did not ask him to come again,and he was half-way down the street when he began to wonder about thefire. The light was out, so he went back, very slowly approached thewood-shed by a roundabout way, entered stealthily and struck a match,shading the light with his hand.
On the floor, in the corner, was a very small pile of kindlings andthe coal-bin was swept clean, no other fuel being in sight.
"It's jest as I thought," he said to himself. "The poor little soul!"
St. Valentine's morning was clear and bright, but enough snow hadfallen during the night to obliterate the telltale tracks around thewood-shed. Mrs. Safford was up betimes, eagerly anticipating herhusband's peep into the soap box which held chance letters posted afterthe store had closed. There were two valentines there, both addressedto "Miss Elmiry Ann Rogers, The Corners."
"Sakes alive!" said Mrs. Safford. "Si! Elmiry Ann Rogers has beena-sending herself valentines every year, regler. I wish 't I knew whot' other was from--this is the first time she's had two."
"How'd you know anything about it?"
"Why one on 'em is in the same hand that was on the order she wrote,but t' other looks like a man's hand."
"Aureely," said the postmaster, "you keep still about valentines andeverything else you see in the mail, or I'll lose the post-office,and you'll go to jail! The United States government don't stand nofoolin'!"
Awed by her husband's stern manner, Mrs. Safford decided to keep still,but she watched Elmiry Ann closely when Silas gave her the valentines.The thin sad face lighted up with pleased surprise, but Elmiry didnot stop. She clutched her treasures tightly and hurried out lookingyounger than she had for years.
When John Weeks came in during the afternoon the Saffords were puttingaway the valentines. "This fool business is over for another year,John," said the postmaster. "We've sold one we've had for more'n fiveyears. What you steppin' on my feet for, Aureely? Ain't you got roomenough in the store to walk?"
"'Scuse me Si, there's the squire comin' in."
"Mornin', Squire."
"Mornin', Si. Has your clocks stopped, so's you don't know it'safternoon? How's biz?"
"Oh, so so. What's new?"
"Nothin', only the selectmen held a meetin' yesterday an' Elmiry Rogersis a-goin' to the poorhouse. She's back in her intrust, and ain't gotno prospects, and the Doctor has got to foreclose. They wanted I s'dtell her, but someways, I don't like the idea. She'll be kep' warm andshe'll be better off, and she'll have plenty of comp'ny, but I knowedher when she went to school, an' I knowed her mother too. For the sakeof auld lang syne I don't want to hurt her."
"Sho now, ain't that too bad?" said both the Saffords together.
Nobody knew just when Mr. Weeks left the store, and Elmiry Ann wasstartled when she opened the door in response to his vigorous rap. Shehad not been at home long, and the colour still burned in her cheeks.The valentines lay on the table, presenting a strange contrast to theirbleak and commonplace surroundings.
"Why, how do you do?" she exclaimed with a queer little note in hervoice. "Will you come in?"
"Yes, I'll come in," he said decisively. He shut the door with a bangand took the trembling frightened woman into his arms.
"Elmiry! You poor little soul! I've wanted you 'most twenty years, an'I ain't never had courage to say it 'til now. We've waited too long,an' I want you to come and be my valentine--will you, dear?"
"Why, Mr. Weeks," she cried in astonishment, "what's took you all of asudden?"
"It's sense, I reckon, Elmiry, an' it's been a long time comin'. I washuffed 'cause you never made no answer to the valentine I sent you, an'I thought you didn't want me, so I just stayed away."
"What valentine?" Elmiry's eyes were very big and fearful.
"Don't you remember that valentine I sent you?--Let's see, it's so longago--I've most forgot what it was. It said:
"'The rose is red, the violet blue, Pinks are sweet and so are you; Give me your heart, you have mine-- Will you be my valentine?'"
"Yes," said Elmiry slowly, "I remember." She went to the Family Biblewhich lay on the marble-topped table in the front room and took it out.It was worn and faded and there were spots on it which looked liketears. "Did you mean that," she asked with difficulty, "for a-a----"
"Yes, I did," answered John, "an' I thought it was cunnin', but I seenow, what a blamed fool I was. I should have come and asked you like aman an' not trusted to your understandin' no fool valentine. I made agreat mistake--Elmiry, dear, won't you never forgive me?"
The poor little old maid smiled through her blinding tears.
"Oh, John," she said, "I've waited so long!" Then she broke down andsobbed helplessly in his arms.
Elmiry forgot the empty years, and the pathetic valentines, so dearlybought--it was so sweet to be loved and taken care of by a masterfulman.
Neither heard the jingle of sleigh-bells 'till a voice shouted:
"Whoa," outside, and Doctor Jones started towards the gate.
"Who's that?" said Elmiry.
"It's the Doctor--he wants to see me about something and I'll go rightout."
"No, I'm sure it's me, he wants to see, John," said Elmiry sadly.
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br /> "'Tain't neither. He see me a-comin' here."
Without stopping to put on his overcoat Weeks rushed out slamming thedoor behind him, as he went. The conversation was brief, but to thepoint, and presently the Doctor drove off with a smile on his face.
"Didn't he want to see me, John?" asked Elmiry tearfully.
"No, it was me, as I told you, but he sent in his congratulations."
"His congratulations! Oh, John! What did you tell him?"
"I told him," said John, taking her into his arms, "that we was engagedan' that you was goin' to be my valentine."
The Knighthood of Tony