Cy Whittaker's Place Part 14

"Now, I'll have some soup, please," observed Emily. "I'm awful hungry.

I had breakfast at five o'clock this morning and we didn't have a chance to eat much."

A good many times that day the captain caught himself wondering if he wasn't dreaming. The whole affair seemed too ridiculous to be an actual experience. Dinner over, he and Emmie attended to the dishes, he was.h.i.+ng and she wiping. And even at this early stage of their acquaintance her disposition to take charge of things was apparent. She found fault with the dish towels; they were almost as bad as the tablecloth, she said.

Considering that the same set had been in use since Mrs. Beasley's departure, the criticism was not altogether baseless. But the young lady did not stop there--her companion's skill as a washer was questioned.

"Excuse me," she said, "but don't you think that plate had better be done over? I guess you didn't see that place in the corner. Perhaps you've forgot your specs. Auntie Oliver couldn't see well without her specs."

Captain Cy grinned and admitted that a second was.h.i.+ng wouldn't hurt the plate.

"I guess your auntie was one of the particular kind," he said.

"No, sir, 'twas mamma. She couldn't bear dirty things. Auntie used to say that mamma hunted dust with a magnifying gla.s.s. She didn't, though; she only liked to be neat. I guess dust doesn't worry men so much as it does women."

"Why?"

"Oh, 'cause there's so much of it here; don't you think so? I'll help you clean up by and by, if you want to."

"YOU will?"

"Yes, sir. I used to dust sometimes when mamma was out sewing. And once I swept, but I did it so hard that auntie wouldn't let me any more. She said 'twas like trying to blow out a match with a tornado."

Later on he found her standing in the sitting room, critically inspecting the mats, the furniture, and the pictures on the walls. He stood watching her for a moment and then asked:

"Well, what are you lookin' for--more dust? 'Twon't be hard to find it.

'Dust thou art and unto dust thou shalt return.' Every time I go outdoor and come in again I realize how true that is."

Emily shook her head.

"No, sir," she said; "I was only looking at things and thinking."

"Thinkin', hey? What about? or is that a secret?"

"No, sir. I was thinking that this room was different from any I've ever seen."

"Humph! Yes, I presume likely 'tis. Don't like it very much, do you?"

"Yes, sir, I think I do. It's got a good many things in it that I never saw before, but I guess they're pretty--after you get used to 'em."

Captain Cy laughed aloud. "After you get used to 'em, hey?" he repeated.

"Yes, sir. That's what mamma said about Auntie Oliver's new bonnet that she made herself. I--I was thinking that you must be peculiar."

"Peculiar?"

"Yes, sir. I like peculiar people. I'm peculiar myself. Auntie used to say I was the most peculiar child she ever saw. P'raps that's why I came to you. P'raps G.o.d meant for peculiar ones to live together. Don't you think maybe that was it?"

And the captain, having no answer ready, said nothing.

That evening when Asaph and Bailey, coming for their usual call, peeped in at the window, they were astounded by the tableau in the Whittaker sitting room. Captain Cy was seated in the rocking chair which had been his grandfather's. At his feet, on the walnut cricket with a haircloth top, sat a little girl turning over the leaves of a tattered magazine, a G.o.dey's Lady's Book. A pile of these magazines was beside her on the floor. The captain was smiling and looking over her shoulder. The cat was curled up in another chair. The room looked more homelike than it had since its owner returned to it.

The friends entered without knocking. Captain Cy looked up, saw them, and appeared embarra.s.sed.

"h.e.l.lo, boys!" he said. "Glad to see you. Come right in. Clearin' off fine, ain't it?"

Mr. Tidditt replied absently that he wouldn't be surprised if it was.

Bailey, his eyes fixed upon the occupant of the cricket, said nothing.

"We--we didn't know you had company, Whit," said Asaph. "We been up to Simmons's and Alpheus said you was thin and peaked and looked sick. Said you bought sa.s.s'p'rilla and all kind of truck. He was afraid you had fever and was out of your head, cruisin round in the rain with no umbrella. The gang weren't talkin' of nothin' else, so me and Bailey thought we'd come right down."

"That's kind of you, I'm sure. Take your things off and set down. No, I'm sorry to disappoint Smalley and the rest, but I'm able to be up and--er--make my own bed, thank you. So Alpheus thought I looked thin, hey? Well, if I had to live on that soup he sold me, I'd be thinner'n I am now. You tell him that canned hot water is all right if you like it, but it seems a shame to put mud in it. It only changes the color and don't help the taste."

Mr. Bangs, who was still staring at Emily, now ventured a remark.

"Is that a relation of yours, Cy?" he asked.

"That? Oh! Well, no, not exactly. And yet I don't know but she is.

Fellers, this is Emmie Thomas. Can't you shake hands, Emmie?"

The child rose, laid down the magazine, which was open at the colored picture of a group of ladies in crinoline and chignons, and, going across the room, extended a hand to Mr. Tidditt.

"How do you do, sir?" she said.

"Why--er--how d'ye do? I'm pretty smart, thank you. How's yourself?"

"I'm better now. I guess the sa.s.s'parilla was good for me."

"'Twan't the sa.s.s'p'rilla," observed the captain, with conviction.

"'Twas the 'Arabian Balsam.' Ma always cured me with it and there's nothin' finer."

"But what in time--" began Bailey. Captain Cy glanced at the child and then at the clock.

"Don't you think you'd better turn in now, Emmie?" he said hastily, cutting off the remainder of the Bangs query. "It's after eight, and when I was little I was abed afore that."

Emily obediently turned, gathered up the Lady's Books and replaced them in the closet. Then she went to the dining room and came back with a hand lamp.

"Good night," she said, addressing the visitors. Then, coming close to the captain, she put her face up for a kiss.

"Good night," she said to him, adding, "I like it here ever so much. I'm awful glad you let me stay."

As Bailey told Asaph afterwards, Captain Cy blushed until the ends of the red lapped over at the nape of his neck. However, he bent and kissed the rosy lips and then quickly brushed his own with his hand.

"Yes, yes," he stammered. "Well--er--good night. Pleasant dreams to you.

See you in the mornin'."

The girl paused at the chamber door. "You won't have to unb.u.t.ton my waist now," she said. "This is my other one and it ain't that kind."

The door closed. The captain, without looking at his friends, led the way to the dining room.

"Come on out here," he whispered. "We can talk better here."