Jewel: A Chapter in Her Life. Clara Louise Burnham

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СКАЧАТЬ reminded, the housekeeper looked back at the phaeton and the brougham. “Be a good boy, Zeke,” coaxingly, “and don't forget now, because Mrs. Evringham is a great stickler—and a great sticker, too,” added Mrs. Forbes in a different tone.

      “Who is the old woman, if the governor isn't married?” asked Ezekiel with not very lively interest. “She don't seem popular with you.”

      “I'll tell you who she is,” returned his mother in a low, emphatic tone. “she's just what I say—a sticker and an interloper.”

      “H'm! Shouldn't wonder if the green-eyed monster had got after mamma,” soliloquized the youth aloud. “Somebody else sews on the buttons now, perhaps.”

      “'Zekiel Forbes, we must have an understanding right off. You've got to joke and tease, I s'pose, but it can't be about Mr. Evringham. This is like a law of the Medes and Persians, and I want you should understand it. The more you see of him the less you'll dare to joke about him.”

      “I told you he scared me stiff,” acknowledged Zeke, running the harness through his hands to discover another dingy spot.

      “Well, he'd better. Now I wouldn't gossip to you of my employer's affairs—I hope we're better than two common servants—but I want you to be as loyal to him as I am, and to understand a few of the reasons why he can't go giggling around like some folks.”

      “Great Scott!” interpolated the young coachman. “Mr. Evringham go giggling around! So would Bunker Hill monument!”

      “Listen to me, Zeke. Mr. Evringham has had two sons. His wife died when the oldest, Lawrence, was fifteen. Well, both those boys disappointed him. Lawrence when he was twenty-one married secretly a widow older than himself, who had a little girl named Eloise. Mr. Evringham made the best of it, and helped him along in business. Lawrence became a broker and had made and lost a fortune when he died at the age of thirty-five.”

      “Broke himself, did he?” remarked the irrepressible 'Zekiel.

      “Yes, he did. Here we were, living in peace and comfort—my employer at sixty a man of settled habits and naturally very set in his ways and satisfied with his home and the way I had run it for him for fifteen years—when three blows fell on him at once. Firstly his son Lawrence failed and was ruined; secondly he died; and thirdly his widow and her daughter nineteen years old came here a couple of months ago and settled on Mr. Evringham, and here they've stayed ever since! I don't think they have an idea of going away.” Mrs. Forbes's eyes snapped. “Such an upset as it was! I couldn't show how I felt, of course, for it was so much worse for him than it was for me. He had never cared for Mrs. Evringham, and scarcely knew the girl who called him 'grandfather' without an atom of right.”

      “Hard lines,” observed 'Zekiel. “Does the girl call herself Evringham?”

      “Does she?” with scorn. “Well I guess she does. Of course she was only four when her mother married Lawrence, and I guess she was fond of her stepfather and he of her, because he never had any children; but sometimes I ask myself, is it going on forever? I only hope Eloise'll get married soon.”

      'Zekiel dropped the harness to arrange imaginary curls on his temples and pat the tie on his muscular neck. “If she's pretty I'm willing,” he responded.

      His mother shook her head absently. “Then there was Mr. Evringham's younger son, a regular roving ne'er-do-well. He didn't like Wall Street and he went West to Chicago. He was a rolling stone, first in one position and then in another; then he got married, and after a few years he rolled away altogether. All Mr. Evringham knows about him and his family is that he had one child. Harry wrote a few letters about his wife Julia and the baby, at the time it was born, and Mr. Evringham sent a present of money; then the letters ceased until one day the wife wrote him frantically that her husband had disappeared and begged to know where he was. Mr. Evringham knew nothing about him and wrote her so, and that is the last he's heard. So you see if he looks cold and hard, he's had enough to make him so.”

      “H'm!” ejaculated 'Zekiel. “He don't give the impression of lyin' awake nights wondering how his deserted daughter-in-law and the kid make out.”

      “Why should he?” retorted Mrs. Forbes sharply. “His two boys acted as selfish to him as boys could. He's a disappointed, humiliated man in that proud heart of his. He's been hunted out and harrowed up in this peaceful retreat, when all he asked was to be let alone with his horses and his golf clubs, and I think one daughter-in-law's enough under the circumstances. I have some respect for Mrs. Harry, whoever she is, because she lets him alone. In all the long years we've spent here, when he often had no one to talk to but me, he's let me have a glimpse of these things, and I've told you so's you'd think right about him and serve him all the better.”

      “He's got a look in his eyes like cold steel,” remarked Ezekiel, “and lines under 'em like they'd been drawn with steel; and his back's as flat and straight as if a steel rod took the place of a spine. That thick gray hair and mustache of his might be steel threads.”

      “He's a splendid sight on horseback,” responded Mrs. Forbes devoutly. “His sons were neither of 'em ever the man he is. I'd like to protect him from being imposed upon if such a thing was possible.”

      “Sho!” drawled 'Zekiel. “Might's well talk about protecting a battleship.”

      “Well, 'Zekiel Forbes,” returned his mother, her eyes bright, “can't you imagine a battleship hesitating to run down a little pleasure yacht with all its flags flying? And can't you imagine that hesitation costing the battleship considerable precious time and money? You've said a good deal about my sacrificing my room in the house and coming out here to fix a little home for us both, upstairs in the barn chambers, but perhaps you can see now that it isn't all sacrifice, that perhaps I'm glad of an excuse to get out of the house, where things are so different from what they used to be, and to have a cosy home with my own boy. Now then, 'Zekiel,” coaxingly, these words recalling her boy's responsibilities, “look over there once more and tell me which of those is the spider.”

      Zekiel dropped the harness and laid his hand gently on his mother's forehead. “There isn't anything there, dear mother,” he said soothingly.

      “Zeke!” she exclaimed, jerking away with a short reluctant laugh.

      “'Mother, dear mother, come home with me now,'” he roared sentimentally, so that Essex Maid lifted her beautiful head and looked out in surprise. “Remember Fanshaw, and put more water in it after this,” he added, dropping his arm to his mother's neck and capturing her with a hug.

      “'Zekiel!” she protested. “'Zekiel!”

CHAPTER II

       Table of Contents

THE CHICAGO LETTER

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      The mother was still laughing and struggling in the irresistible embrace when both became aware that a third person was regarding them in open-mouthed astonishment.

      “'Zekiel, let me go!” commanded the scandalized woman, and pushed herself free from her tormentor, who forthwith returned rather СКАЧАТЬ