A Forest Hearth: A Romance of Indiana in the Thirties Part 24

"Yes, every day."

"You will think of me every day and night?"

"Yes, Dic, every moment, and--"

"You will come back to me soon--very soon?"

"Yes, Dic, whenever you choose to take me."

"And you will be brave against your mother?"

"Yes, brave as I can be, for your sake, Dic. But you must not forget that I cannot be very brave long at a time without help from you! Oh, Dic, how can I bear to be so far away from you? I shall see you only on Sundays; a whole week apart! You have never been from me so long since I can remember till you went to New York. I told you trouble would come from that trip; but you will come to me Sundays--by Sat.u.r.day night's stage?"

"Yes, every Sunday."

"Surely? You will never fail me? I shall die of disappointment if you fail me once. All week I shall live on the hope of Sunday."

"I'll come, Rita. You need not fear."

"And Dic, you will not go often to see Sukey Yates, will you?"

"I'll not speak to her, if you wish. She is nothing to me. I'll not go near her."

"No, I don't ask that. I fear I am very selfish. You will be lonely when I am gone and--and you may go to see Sukey--and--and the other girls once in a while. But you won't go too often to see Sukey and--and you won't grow to caring for her--one bit, will you?"

"I will not go at all."

"Oh, but you must; I command you. You would think I do not trust you if I would not let you go at all. I don't entirely trust her, though I am sure I am wrong and wicked to doubt her; but I trust you, and would trust you with any one."

"I, too, trust you, Rita. It will be impossible for you to mistreat Williams, a.s.sociated as he is with your father. For the sake of peace, treat him well, but--"

"He shall never touch my hand, Dic; that I swear! I can't keep him from coming to our house, but it will be torture when I shall be wanting you.

Oh, Dic--" and tears came before she could take her hands from under the bearskins to cover her face. But as I said, I cannot tell you all the plans and castles they built, nor shall I try.

The wise man buildeth many castles, but he abideth not therein, lest they crumble about his ears and crush him. Castles built of air often fall of stone. Therefore, only the foolish man keeps revel in the great hall or slumbers in the donjon-keep.

Early upon the second Sunday after the Bayses' advent to Indianapolis, Dic, disdaining the stage, rode a-horseback and covered the distance before noon. Mr. Bays and Tom received him with open arms. Rita would have done likewise in a more literal sense could she have had him alone for a moment. But you can see her smiles and hear her gentle heart beats, even as Dic saw and heard them. A bunch of cold, bony fingers was given to Dic by Mother Justice. When he arrived Williams was present awaiting dinner, and after Mrs. Bays had given the cold fingers, she said:--

"I suppose we'll have to try to crowd another plate on the table. We didn't expect an extra guest."

Rita endured without complaint her mother's thrusts when she alone received them, but rebelled when Dic was attacked. In the kitchen she told her mother that she would insult Williams if Mrs. Bays again insulted Dic. The girl was so frightened by her own boldness that she trembled, and although the mother's heart showed signs of weakness, there was not time, owing to the scorching turkey, for a total collapse.

There was, however, time for a few random biblical quotations, and they were almost as effective as heart failure in subduing the insolent, disobedient, ungrateful, sacrilegious, wicked daughter for whom the fond mother had toiled and suffered and endured, lo! these many years.

When Rita and her mother returned to the front room to invite the guests to dinner, Dic thanked Mrs. Bays, and said he would go to the tavern.

Rita's face at once became a picture of woe, but she was proud of Dic's spirit, and gloried in his exhibition of self-respect. When Mrs. Bays saw that Dic resented her insult, she insisted that he should remain.

She said there was plenty for all, and that there was more room at the table than she had supposed. But Dic took his hat and started toward the door. Tom tried to take the hat from his hand, saying:--

"Nonsense, Dic, you will stay. You must," and Mr. Bays said:--

"Come, come, boy, don't be foolish. It has been a long time since you took a meal with us. It will seem like old times again. Put down your hat."

Dic refused emphatically, and Tom, taking up his own hat, said:--

"If Dic goes to the inn, I go with him. Mother's a d.a.m.ned old fool." I wish I might have heard the undutiful son speak those blessed words!

Williams was delighted when Rita did not insist upon Dic's remaining, but his delight died ignominiously when the girl with tears in her eyes took Dic's hand before them all and said:--

"Come back to me soon, Dic. I will be waiting for you."

Our little girl is growing brave, but she trembles when she thinks of the wrath to come.

Dinner was a failure. Mrs. Bays thought only of the note payable on demand, and feared that her offensive conduct to Dic might cause its instant maturity. If the note had been in her own hands under similar circ.u.mstances, and if she had been in Dic's place, she well knew that serious results would have followed. She judged Dic by herself, and feared she had made a mistake.

There were but two modes of living in peace with this woman--even in semi-peace. Domineer her coldly, selfishly, and cruelly as did Tom, and she would be a worm; or submit to her domineering, be a worm yourself, and she would be a tyrant. Those who insist on domineering others usually have their way. The world is too good-natured and too lazy to combat them. Fight them with their own weapons, and they become an easy prey. Tom was his mother's own son. He domineered her, his father, and Rita; but, like his mother, his domineering was inflicted only upon those whose love for him made them unresisting.

But I have wandered from the dinner. Rita sat by Williams, but she did not eat, and vouchsafed to him only such words as were absolutely necessary to answer direct questions.

Williams was a handsome fellow, and many girls would have been glad to answer his questions volubly. He, like Mrs. Bays, was of a domineering nature, and clung to a purpose once formed with the combative tenacity of a bull-dog or the cringing persistency of a hound. Success in all his undertakings was his object, and he cared little about the means to desired ends. Such a man usually attains his end; among other consummations, he is apt to marry a rare, beautiful girl who hates him.

"Dic is like a brother to Rita," said Mrs. Bays, in explanation of her daughter's conduct. "Her actions may seem peculiar to a stranger, but she could only feel for him the affection she might give to a brother."

"Brother!" exclaimed Rita, in accent of contempt, though she did not look up from her plate. The young lady was growing rebellious. Wait for the reckoning, girl! Rita's red flag of rebellion silenced Mrs. Bays for the time being, and she attempted no further explanations.

Poor father Bays could think of nothing but Dic eating dinner at the tavern. Rita trembled in rebellion, and was silent. After a time the general chilliness penetrated even Williams's coat of polish, and only the clinking of the knives and forks broke the uncomfortable stillness.

Dic was well avenged.

Soon after dinner Tom and Dic returned. Tom went to the kitchen, and his mother said:--

"Tom, my son, your words grieved me, and I--"

"Oh, shut up," answered De Triflin'. "Your heart'll bust if you talk too much. Do you want to make Dic sue us for the money we owe him, and throw us out of business? Don't you know we would have to go back to Blue if Dic asked for his money? If you hain't got any sense, you ought to keep your mouth shut."

"Tom, you should be ashamed," said Rita, looking reproachfully at her brother.

"You shut up too," answered Tom. "Go in and talk to your two beaux. G.o.d!

but you're popular. How are you going to manage them to-night?"

That question had presented itself before, and Rita had not been able to answer it.

After Mrs. Bays had gone from the kitchen, Tom repeated his question:--

"How will you manage them to-night, Sis?"

"I don't know," answered Rita, almost weeping. "I suppose Dic will go away. He has more pride than--than the other. I suppose Mr. Williams will stay. Tom, if you find an opportunity, I want you to tell Dic to stay--tell him I want him to stay. He must stay with me until Williams goes, even if it is all night. Please do this for me, brother, and I'll do anything for you that you ask--I always do."

But Tom laughed, and said, "No, I'll not mix in. I like Dic; but, Sis, you're a fool if you don't take Williams. The Tousy girls would jump at him. They were at the tavern, and laughed at Dic's country ways."