The Debtor Part 36

"You're telling a lie yourself, missis," said he.

Mrs. Rawdy essayed to push past him, but as he stood directly in the door, and she was unable, on account of her stout habit of body, to pa.s.s him, and hardly ventured to forcibly remove him, she desisted.

"You are a sa.s.sy little boy," said she, "and if your sister is as sa.s.sy as her brother, I pity the man that's goin' to marry her."

In reply Eddy made up an impish face at her as she retreated. Then he entered the church himself to inspect progress, returning immediately to take up his position of sentry again. About noon Anderson pa.s.sed on his way to the post-office, and nodded.

"You can't come in," the boy called out.

"All right," Anderson responded. But then Eddy made a flying leap from the church door and caught hold of his arm.

"Say, you can, if you won't tell anybody about it," he whispered, as if the curious village was within ear-shot.

"I am afraid I cannot stop now, thank you," Anderson replied, smiling.

"You ain't mad, are you?"

Anderson a.s.sured him that he was not.

"They didn't tell me to keep folks out," Eddy explained, "but I made up my mind I didn't want everybody seeing it till it was done. It's going to be a stunner, I can tell you. There's palms and pots of flowers, and yards and yards of white and green ribbon tied in bows, and the pews are all tied round with evergreen boughs, and to-morrow the smilax is going up. I tell you, it's fine."

"It must be," said Anderson. He strove to move on, but could not break free from the boy's little, clinging hand. "Just come up the steps and peek in," pleaded Eddy. So Anderson yielded weakly and let himself be pulled up the steps to the entrance of the church.

"Ain't it handsome?" asked Eddy, triumphantly.

"Very," replied Anderson.

"Say," said Eddy, "was it as handsome when you were married yourself?"

"I never was married," replied Anderson, laughing.

"You weren't?" said Eddy, staring at him. "Why, I thought you were a widow man."

"No," said Anderson.

"Well, why were you never married?" asked Eddy, sharply.

"Oh, for a good many reasons which I have never formulated sufficiently to give," replied Anderson.

"I hate big words," said Eddy, "and I didn't think you would do it.

It's mean."

"So it is," said Anderson, with a kindly look at him. "Well, all I meant was I couldn't give my reasons without thinking it over."

"Perhaps you'll tell me when you get them thought over," said Eddy, accepting the apology generously.

"Perhaps."

Anderson turned to go, after saying again that the church was very handsomely decorated, and Eddy still kept at his side.

"You didn't stay not married because you couldn't get a girl to marry you, anyhow, I know that," said he, "because you are an awful handsome man. You are better-looking than major Arms. I should think Ina would a heap rather have married you."

"Thank you," said Anderson.

"You are going to the wedding, aren't you?" asked Eddy.

"No, I think not."

"Why not?"

"I am very busy."

"Why, you don't keep your store open Wednesday evening?" asked Eddy, regarding him sharply.

"I have letters to write," replied Anderson.

"Oh, shucks! let the letters go!" cried the boy. "There's going to be stacks of fun, and lots of things to eat. There's chicken salad and lobster, and sandwiches, and ice-cream and cake, and coffee and cake, and--" The boy hesitated; then he spoke again in a whisper of triumph that had its meaning of pathos: "They are all paid for. I know, for I heard papa tell Major Arms. The carriages are paid for, too, and the florist is going to be paid."

"That's good," said Anderson.

"Yes, sir, so the things are sure to be there. They won't back out at the last minute, as they do sometimes. Awful mean, too. Say, you'd better come. Your mother can come, too. She likes ice-cream, don't she?"

Anderson said that he believed she did.

"Well, she'll be sure to get all she can eat," said Eddy. "Tell her to come. I like your mother." He clung closely to the man's arm and walked along the street with him, forgetting his post as guardian of the church. "You'll come, won't you?" he said.

"No. I shall be too busy, my son," said Anderson, smiling; and finally Eddy retreated dissatisfied. When he went home an hour later he burst into the house with a question.

"Say," he asked Charlotte, "I want to know if Mr. Anderson and his mother were asked to the wedding."

Charlotte was hurrying through the hall with white and green ribbons flying around her, en route to trim the bay-window where the bridal couple were to stand to receive the guests. "Oh, Eddy, dear," she cried, "I can't stop now; indeed I can't. I don't know who was invited and who not."

"But, Charlotte," Eddy persisted, "I want to know particularly.

Please tell me, honey."

Then Charlotte stopped and looked back over her great snarl of white and green ribbon. "Who did you say, dear?" she asked. "Hurry! I can't stop."

"Mr. Anderson," repeated Eddy. "Mr. Anderson and his mother."

"Mr. Anderson and his mother?" repeated Charlotte, vaguely, and just then Anna Carroll came with a little table which was to support a bowl of roses in the bay-window.

"Mr. Anderson," said Eddy again.

"I don't know who you mean, Eddy, dear," said Charlotte.

"Why, yes, you do, Charlotte, Mr. Anderson and his mother."

"What is it?" asked Anna Carroll. "Eddy, you must not stop us for anything. We are too busy."

"You might just tell me if they are asked to the wedding," said Eddy, in an aggrieved tone. "That won't take a minute. Mr. Anderson. He keeps store."