Ramshackle House. Footner Hulbert

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СКАЧАТЬ in a dream she heard her father saying: “Mr. Donald Counsell…my daughter. Her name is Pendleton Broome the same as my own. It is a family custom.”

      She heard the young man apologizing for his appearance. “I never expected to…”

      Pen caught him up sharply. “Find white people here? You wouldn’t. From the look of the place.”

      Both men were disconcerted by her brusqueness. Pen was horribly ashamed of herself. “I will not blush…! I will not blush!” she said to herself, glaring out across the river. After the first glance she never looked at the young man again, but was nevertheless tinglingly conscious of his aspect; the fine lines of his body, his fair tanned skin, and always of those merry, speaking, wistful eyes. “What has happened to me…? What has happened to me?” a little voice within her seemed to be wailing.

      The young man tried to smooth things over. “What a heavenly spot! As I have already told your father, I’m loafing down the Bay in a canoe.”

      “What do you do when the wind blows?” asked the elder Pendleton.

      “Oh, go ashore and sit and smoke by my fire.”

      “Don’t you get lonely?”

      A shadow crossed the young man’s open countenance. “No, I’m fed up with people,” he said shortly. “…That is, city people,” he added with a glance through his lashes at Pen.

      A sudden flame of jealousy burned Pen’s breast. “There have been many women in his life!” And immediately: “Oh, what a fool I am!” she promptly added.

      Pendleton glanced admonishingly at his daughter. Where was the courtesy to strangers for which the Broomes were famous? The glance was wasted upon Pen. An awkward silence resulted.

      Finally the young man said politely: “I came to see if I could get some butter and eggs.”

      “Certainly,” said Pen stiffly. “Eggs are twenty cents a dozen, butter forty cents the pound.”

      She bit her tongue as soon as it was out, but could not have helped herself. Some power stronger than her will forced her to put her worst foot foremost. Pendleton père was frankly shocked, but the young man was not put out at all. He grinned at her delightfully and murmured too low for her father to hear:

      “Cheap at half the price!”

      It did not help Pen any. “He’s laughing at me!” she said to herself in a rage. “Thinks he can have me at his own price!… He’ll see!”

      Pendleton coughed behind his hand as a direct reminder to Pen of the time-honored hospitality of their house. Pen didn’t get it. The effort to master her inexplicable emotions made her look almost stupid. In the end Pendleton himself was obliged to say:

      “You will have dinner with us?”

      Counsell’s face lighted up. “You are very kind, but…” He looked at Pen again.

      “We’ll be very pleased to have you,” Pen said as primly as a school-marm, and despising herself for it. Why couldn’t she be natural?

      “Well, thanks, I will,” Counsell said heartily. “After three days in camp a square meal will be a god-send! I may say I’m no great shakes of a cook.”

      Pen’s breast warmed at the thought of feeding the youth. “Dinner” had the effect of recalling her scattered faculties. Her mind flew to the question: What is there…? The ham-bone…? Impossible! Stuffed eggs…lettuce…radishes…strawberries. There is that bottle of my three year old grape wine… Not enough for a hungry man. He’s so vigorous!… If I could put it off until half-past one I might get the boys to catch me some soft crabs… No, the tide is too high!… I have it! The cheese soufflé!”

      Excusing herself she went into the house to get her preparations under way. In the hall she came to a dead stop with her arms hanging limply, and looked into the future with a sort of horror. Her thought was: “I’m a goner!… I have lost myself…lost…!” She pulled herself together with a jerk and flew into the kitchen, where for the next half hour things hummed. Aunt Maria Garner loved to cook for company.

      Later, Pen having changed her dress, was setting the table. Through the open window she could hear her father retailing the Broome family history in the slightly throaty voice of self-importance. Pen knew his tale by heart.

      “…Settled here since 1710… 2500 acres…the estate runs four miles up the Bay shore.… The first house built here was a fine Colonial mansion with a pillared portico. Burned by the British on their expedition against Washington in the 1812 affair. A comfortable farmhouse with great chimneys arose out of its ruins. The present structure was erected in 1869. This was the style then, a great square block with a cupola. Considered magnificent in its day. Very fine rooms. You’ll see them presently. It contains the oldest bath-room in Southern Maryland. Unfortunately out of order at present.

      “This house was built by my father on his return from Peru. He was a man of resource. When everybody hereabouts was ruined by the war he emigrated to South America. Got in with the right people in Peru and made a great fortune in a year or two. Invested it in Peruvian bonds. He returned and laid out the old family place on a princely scale, princely. Laid out twenty miles of roads through the woods for his guests to take horse exercise. At one time he had five hundred employees on the place white and black. How well I remember as a child when the family departed for Newport where my father had another place, they would all be lined up to say good-by in a double row extending far beyond the gate. We would walk between and my father would shake hands with each one and say a few kind words. There was scarcely a dry eye among them!”

      Pen, listening to this innocent tale, felt her cheeks burn.

      Pendleton concluded with a sigh: “Unfortunately there was a revolution in Peru. The dastardly cutthroats who seized the reins of government repudiated the obligations of their country.”

      “In other words the bonds were N.G.,” murmured Counsell.

      “Exactly. My father’s fortune was swept away overnight. Since then it has been a struggle. Too much land and too little money. But I look for better times…better times.”

      Counsell asked a question.

      “The railway,” Pendleton answered with an air. “The Broome’s Point railway. It will terminate in that gully down to the right there. It was first projected forty years ago, the right of way all graded and the trestles built ready for the rails. Unfortunately there was chicanery somewhere; construction was held up. Since then the enterprise has been revived from time to time, but something has always happened. But it will, it must come some day. I am bringing influence to bear. I have made liberal offers of land to the promoters. That is the finest harbor on the coast that lies before you. Baltimore is jealous. Powerful interests were brought to bear against the project the last time it was started. Trumped-up charges laid against the promoter.”

      “What happened to him?” asked Counsell.

      “Well, he’s in jail at present,” said Pendleton ruefully. “But he will come out with flying colors. He enjoys my entire confidence. He explained everything to me. The railway must come before long. My place is all laid out in town lots.”

      Pen gritted her teeth. She could picture the worldly-wise young man laughing at her foolish little father СКАЧАТЬ