The Harvester Part 68

"Ruth, you make this toast," said the Harvester and disappeared.

Presently he placed before his guest a couple of eggs poached in milk, a steaming bowl of beef juice, and a plate of toast. For one instant the Harvester thought this was going into the fire, the next a slice was picked up and smelled testily. The Girl sat on her grandfather's chair arm, and breaking a morsel of toast dipped it into the broth and tasted it.

"Oh but that is good!" she cried. "Why haven't I some also? Am I supposed to have no 'tummy'?"

"Your turn next," said the Harvester, as he again gave her the fork and went to the kitchen.

When he returned and served the Girl he found her grandfather eating heartily.

"Why I think this is fun," said the gentle lady. "I haven't had such a fine time in ages. I love the heat of the flame on my body and things taste so good. I could go to sleep without any narcotic, right now."

Close her knee the Harvester knelt on the hearth with his toasting fork.

She leaned forward and ran her fingers through his hair.

"You're a braw laddie," she said. "Now I see why Ruthie WOULD come."

The Harvester took the frail hand and kissed it. "Thank you!" he returned.

"Mus.h.!.+" exploded the grizzled man in the rear.

When no one wanted more food the Harvester stacked and carried away the dishes, swept the hearth, and replaced the toaster.

"Ruth and I often lunched this way last fall," he said. "We liked it for a change."

"Alexander, have you noticed?" asked the little woman as she lifted wet eyes to a beautiful portrait of her daughter beside the chimney.

"D'ye think I'm blind? Saw it as I entered the door. Poor taste! Very!

Brown may match the rug and wood-work, but it's a wretched colour for a young girl in her gay time. Should be pink and white with a gold frame."

"That would be beautiful," agreed the Harvester. "We must have one that way. This is not an expensive picture. It is only an enlargement from an old photograph."

"We have a number of very handsome likenesses. Which one can you spare Ruth, Marcella?"

"The one she likes best," said the lady promptly.

"And the other is your mother, no doubt. What a girlish, beautiful face!"

"Wonderfully fine!" growled a gruff old voice tinctured with tears, and the Harvester began to see light.

The old man arose. "Ruthie, help your grandmother to bed," he said. "And you, sir, have the goodness to walk a few steps with me."

The Harvester sprang up and brought Mr. Herron his coat and hat and held the door. The Girl brushed past him.

"To the oak," she whispered.

They went into the night, and without a word the Harvester took his guest's arm and guided him up the hill. When they reached the two mounds the moon s.h.i.+ning between the branches touched the lily faces with with holy whiteness.

"She sleeps there," said the Harvester, indicating the place.

Then he turned and went down the path a little distance and waited until he feared the night air would chill the broken old man.

"You can see better to-morrow," he said as he touched the shaking figure and a.s.sisted it to arise.

"Your work?" Mr. Alexander Herron touched the lilies with his walking stick.

The Harvester a.s.sented.

"Do you mind if I carry one to Marcella?"

The Harvester trembled as he stooped to select the largest and whitest, and with sudden illumination, he fully understood. He helped the tottering old man to the cabin, where he sat silently before the fireplace softly touching the lily face with his lips.

"I have put grandmother in my bed, tucked her in warmly, and she says it is soft and fine," laughed the Girl, coming to them. "Now you go before she falls asleep, and I hope you will rest well."

She bent and kissed him.

The Harvester held the door.

"Can I be of any service?" he inquired.

"No, I'm no helpless child."

"Then to my best wishes for sound sleep the remainder of the night, I will add this," said the Harvester----"You may rest in peace concerning your dear girl. I sympathize with your anxiety. Good night!"

Alexander Herron threw out his hands in protest.

"I wouldn't mind admitting that you are a gentleman in a month or two,"

he said, "but it's a demnation humiliation to have it literally wrung from me to-night!"

He banged the door in the face of the amazed Harvester, who turned to the Girl as she leaned against the mantel. He stood absorbing the glowing picture of beauty and health that she made. She had removed her travelling dress and shoes, and was draped in a fleecy white wool kimono and wearing night slippers. Her hair hung in two big braids as it had during her illness. She was his sick girl again in costume, but radiant health glowed on her lovely face. The Harvester touched a match to a few candles and turned out the acetylene lights. Then he stood before her.

"Now, bluebird," he said gently. "Ruth, you always know where to find me, if you will look at your feet. I thought I loved you all in my power when you went, but absence has taught its lessons. One is that I can grow to love you more every day I live, and the other that I probably trifled with the highest gift you had to offer, when I sent you away.

I may have been right; Granny and Doc think I was wrong. You know the answer. You said there was another kiss for me. Ruth, is it the same or a different one?"

"It is different. Quite, quite different!"

"And when?" The Harvester stretched out longing arms. The Girl stepped back.

"I don't know," she said. "I had it when I started, but I lost it on the way."

The Harvester staggered under the disappointment.

"Ruth, this has gone far enough that you wouldn't play with me, merely for the sake of seeing me suffer, would you?"

"No!" cried the Girl. "No! I mean it! I knew just what I wanted to say when I started; but we had to take grandmother out of bed. She wouldn't allow me to leave her, and I wouldn't stay away from you any longer. She fainted when we put her on the car and grandfather went wild. He almost killed the porters, and he raved at me. He said my mother had ruined their lives, and now I would be their death. I got so frightened I had a nervous chill and I'm so afraid she will grow worse----"

"You poor child!" shuddered the Harvester. "I see! I understand! What you need is quiet and a good rest."

He placed her in a big easy chair and sitting on the hearth rug he leaned against her knee and said, "Now tell me, unless you are so tired that you should go to bed."