The Mystery of the Sycamore. Wells Carolyn

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СКАЧАТЬ are, when you assume ability you don’t possess.” Mrs. Wheeler’s loving smile robbed the words of any harsh effect. “Run along now, and see if dad won’t go for a walk with you; and don’t refer to anything unpleasant.”

      Maida went, and found Wheeler quite ready for a stroll

      “Which way?” he asked as they crossed the south veranda.

      “Round the park, and bring up under the tree, and have tea there,” dictated Maida, her heart already lighter as she obeyed her mother’s dictum to avoid unpleasant subjects.

      But as they walked on, and trivial talk seemed to pall, they naturally reverted to the discussion of their recent guests.

      “Mr. Appleby is an old curmudgeon,” Maida declared; “Mr. Keefe is nice and well-behaved; but the little Lane girl is a scream! I never saw any one so funny. Now she was quite a grand lady, and then she was a common little piece! But underneath it all she showed a lot of good sense and I’m sure in her work she has real ability.”

      “Appleby wouldn’t keep her if she didn’t have,” her father rejoined; “but why do you call him a curmudgeon? He’s very well-mannered.”

      “Oh, yes, he is. And to tell the truth, I’m not sure just what a curmudgeon is. But – he’s it, anyway.”

      “I gather you don’t especially admire my old friend.”

      “Friend! If he’s a friend – give me enemies!”

      “Fie, fie, Maida, what do you mean? Remember, he gave me my pardon.”

      “Yes, a high old pardon! Say, dad, tell me again exactly how he worded that letter about the tree.”

      “I’ve told you a dozen times! He didn’t mean anything anyhow. He only said, that when the big sycamore tree went into Massachusetts I could go.”

      “What a crazy thing to say, wasn’t it?”

      “It was because we had been talking about the play of Macbeth. You remember, ’Till Birnam Wood shall come to Dunsinane.”

      “Oh, yes, and then it did come – by a trick.”

      “Yes, the men came, carrying branches. We’d been talking about it, discussing some point, and then – it seemed clever, I suppose – to Appleby, and he wrote that about the sycamore.”

      “Meaning – never?”

      “Meaning never.”

      “But Birnam Wood did go.”

      “Only by a trick, and that would not work in this case. Why, are you thinking of carrying a branch of sycamore into Massachusetts?”

      Maida returned his smile as she answered: “I’d manage to carry the whole tree in, if it would do any good! But, I s’pose, old Puritan Father, you’re too conscientious to take advantage of a trick?”

      “Can’t say, till I know the details of the game. But I doubt Appleby’s being unable to see through your trick, and then – where are you?”

      “That wouldn’t matter. Trick or no trick, if the big sycamore went into Massachusetts, you could go. But I don’t see any good plan for getting it in. And, too, Sycamore Ridge wouldn’t be Sycamore Ridge without it. Don’t you love the old tree, dad?”

      “Of course, as I love every stick and stone about the place. It has been a real haven to me in my perturbed life.”

      “Suppose you had to leave it, daddy?”

      “I think I’d die, dear. Unless, that is, we could go back home.”

      “Isn’t this home?”

      “It’s the dearest spot on earth – outside my native state.”

      “There, there, dad, don’t let’s talk about it. We’re here for keeps – ”

      “Heaven send we are, dearest! I couldn’t face the loss of this place. What made you think of such a thing?”

      “Oh, I’m thinking of all sorts of things to-day. But, father, while we’re talking of moving – couldn’t you – oh, couldn’t you, bring yourself, somehow, to do what Mr. Appleby wants you to do? I don’t know much about it – but father, darling, if you only could!”

      “Maida, my little girl, don’t think I haven’t tried. Don’t think I don’t realize what it means to you and Jeff. I know – oh, I do know how it would simplify matters if I should go over to the Appleby side – and push Sam’s campaign – as I could do it. I know that it would mean my full pardon, my return to my old home, my reunion with old scenes and associations. And more than that, it would mean the happiness of my only child – my daughter – and her chosen husband. And yet, Maida, as God is my judge, I am honest in my assertion that I can’t so betray my honor and spend my remaining years a living lie. I can’t do it, Maida – I can’t.”

      And the calm, sorrowful countenance he turned to the girl was more positive and final than any further protestation could have been.

      CHAPTER V

      THE BUGLE SOUNDED TAPS

      Although the portions of the house and grounds that were used by Wheeler included the most attractive spots, yet there were many forbidden places that were a real temptation to him.

      An especial one was the flower-covered arbor that had so charmed Genevieve and another was the broad and beautiful north veranda. To be sure, the south piazza was equally attractive, but it was galling to be compelled to avoid any part of his own domain. However, the passing years had made the conditions a matter of habit and it was only occasionally that Wheeler’s annoyance was poignant.

      In fact, he and his wife bore the cross better than did Maida. She had never become reconciled to the unjust and arbitrary dictum of the conditional pardon. She lived in a constant fear lest her father should some day inadvertently and unintentionally step on the forbidden ground, and it should be reported. Indeed, knowing her father’s quixotic honesty, she was by no means sure he wouldn’t report it himself.

      It had never occurred – probably never would occur, and yet, she often imagined some sudden emergency, such as a fire, or burglars, that might cause his impulsive invasion of the other side of the house.

      In her anxiety she had spoken of this to Samuel Appleby when he was there. But he gave her no satisfaction. He merely replied: “A condition is a condition.”

      Curtis Keefe had tried to help her cause, by saying: “Surely a case of danger would prove an exception to the rule,” but Appleby had only shaken his head in denial.

      Though care had been taken to have the larger part of the house on the Massachusetts side of the line, yet the rooms most used by the family were in Connecticut. Here was Mr. Wheeler’s den, and this had come to be the most used room in the whole house. Mrs. Wheeler’s sitting-room, which her husband never had entered, was also attractive, but both mother and daughter invaded the den, whenever leisure hours were to be enjoyed.

      The den contained a large south bay window, which was Maida’s favorite spot. It had a broad, comfortable window-seat, and here she spent much of her time, curled up among the cushions, reading. СКАЧАТЬ