A Day of Fate Part 16

"Emily Warren, is thee and Richard Morton both lost?" called Mr. Yocomb from the piazza. "I can't find mother either. If somebody don't come soon I'll blow the fish-horn."

"We're all coming," answered Mrs. Yocomb, and she led the way toward the house.

"You have not given me a rose yet," I said to Miss Warren.

"Must you have one?"

"A man never uses the word 'must' in seeking favors from a lady."

"Adroit policy! Well, what kind of a one do you want?"

"I told you long ago."

"Oh, I remember. An old-fas.h.i.+oned one, with a p.r.o.nounced meaning. Here is a York and Lancaster bud. That has a decided old-style meaning."

"It means war, does it not?"

"Yes."

"I won't take it. Yes I will, too," I said, a second later, and I took the bud from her hand. "You know the law of war," I added: "To the victor belong the spoils."

She gave me a quick glance, and after a moment said, a trifle coldly,

"That remark seems bright, but it does not mean anything."

"It often means a great deal. There, I'm out of the garden and in the ordinary world again. I wonder if I shall ever have another bit of Eden in my life."

"Oh, indeed you shall. I will ask Mr. Yocomb to give you a day's weeding and hoeing there."

"What will you do in the meantime?"

"Sit under the arbor and laugh at you."

"Agreed. But suppose it was hot and I grew very tired, what would you do?"

"I fear I would have to invite you under the arbor."

"You fear?"

"Well, I would invite you if you had been of real service in the garden."

"That would be Eden unalloyed."

"Since I am not intoxicated, I cannot agree with you."

CHAPTER XI

"MOVED"

"Mr. Yocomb," I said, as we mounted the piazza, "what is the cause of the smoke rising above yonder mountain to the east of us? I have noticed it several times this afternoon, and it seems increasing."

"That mountain was on fire on Sat.u.r.day. I hoped the rain of last night would put it out, but it was a light shower, and the fire is under headway again. It now seems creeping up near the top of the mountain, for I think I see a faint light."

"I do distinctly; the mountain begins to remind me of a volcano."

"The moon will rise before very long, and you may be treated to a grand sight if the fire burns, as I fear it will."

"This is a day of fate," I said, laughing, "and almost any event that could possibly happen would not surprise me."

"It has seemed a very quiet day to me," said the old gentleman.

"Neither mother nor any one on the high seat had a message for us this morning, and this afternoon I took a very long nap. If thee had not come and stirred us up a little, and Emily Warren had not laughed at us both, I would call it almost a dull day, as far as any peaceful day can be dull. Such days, however, are quite to my mind, and thee'll like 'em better when thee sees my age."

"I'm inclined to think," I replied, "that the great events of life would rarely make even an item in a newspaper."

Mrs. Yocomb looked as if she understood me, but Miss Warren remarked, with a mischievous glance:

"Personals are generally read."

"Editors gossip about others, not themselves."

"You admit they gossip."

"That one did little else seems your impression."

"News and gossip are different things; but I'm glad your conscience so troubles you that you exaggerate my words."

"Emily Warren, thee can squabble with Richard Morton all day to-morrow after thy amiable fas.h.i.+on, but I'm hankering after some of thy music."

"I will keep you waiting no longer, sir, and would have come before, but I did not wish you to see Mr. Morton while he was in a very lamentable condition."

"Why, what was the matter with him?" asked Adah, who had just joined us in the lighted hall; "he seems to have very queer complaints."

"He admits that he was intoxicated, and he certainly talked very strangely."

"Miss Adah, did I talk strangely or wildly this afternoon?"

"No, indeed, I think you talked very nicely; and I told Silas Jones that I never met a gentleman before who looked at things so exactly as I did."

This was dreadful. I saw that Miss Warren was full of suppressed merriment, and was glad that Mrs. Yocomb was in the parlor lighting the lamps.

"I suppose Mr. Jones was glad to hear what you said," I remarked, feeling that I must say something.

"He may have been, but he did not look so."