Cap'n Warren's Wards Part 29

"Oh, land sakes! I wouldn't have you do that for the world! All right, I'll be out in a jiffy."

He gave his hair a final brush, straightened his tie, turned around once more before the mirror, and walked fearfully forth to meet the visitor.

For him, the antic.i.p.ated pleasure of the forenoon had been replaced by uneasy foreboding.

But Mrs. Corcoran Dunn, as she rose creakingly to greet him, was extremely gracious. She was gowned and furred and hatted in a manner which caused the captain to make hasty mental estimate as to cost, but she extended a plump hand, b.u.t.toned in a very tight glove, and murmured her gratification.

"I'm so glad you are to accompany us, Captain Warren," she gushed. "It is a charming winter morning, isn't it?"

Captain Elisha touched the plump glove with his own big finger tips, and admitted that the morning was "fust-rate." He was relieved from the embarra.s.sment of further conversation just then by Caroline's appearance in the library. She, too, was richly dressed.

"Are we all ready?" she asked, brightly. "Then we may as well start."

"I'm afraid we're a trifle early, my dear," said Mrs. Dunn, "but we can stroll about a bit before we go in."

The captain looked at the library clock. The time was a quarter to eleven.

"Early?" he exclaimed, involuntarily. "Why, I thought Caroline said--"

He stopped, suddenly, realizing that he had spoken aloud. His niece divined his thought and laughed merrily.

"The service does begin now," she said, "but no one is ever on time."

"Oh!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed her uncle, and did not speak again until they were at the door of the church. Then Caroline asked him what he was thinking.

"Nothin' much," he answered, gazing at the fas.h.i.+onably garbed throng pouring under the carved stone arch of the entrance; "I was just reorganizin' my ideas, that's all. I've always sort of thought a plug hat looked lonesome. Now I've decided that I'm wearin' the lonesome kind."

He marched behind his niece and Mrs. Dunn up the center aisle to the Warren pew. He wrote his housekeeper afterwards that he estimated that aisle to be "upwards of two mile long. And my Sunday shoes had a separate squeak for every inch," he added.

Once seated, however, and no longer so conspicuous, his common sense and Yankee independence came to his rescue. He had been in much bigger churches than this one, while abroad during his seagoing years. He knew that his clothes were not fas.h.i.+onably cut, and that, to the people about him, he must appear odd and, perhaps, even ridiculous. But he remembered how odd certain city people appeared while summering at South Denboro.

Recollections of pointed comments made by boatmen who had taken these summer sojourners on fis.h.i.+ng excursions came to his mind. Well, he had one advantage over such people, at any rate, he knew when he was ridiculous, and they apparently did not.

So, saved from humiliation by his sense of humor, he looked about him with interest. When the procession of choir boys came up the aisle, and Mrs. Dunn explained in a condescending whisper what they were, his answer surprised her a trifle. "Yes," whispered the captain in reply, "I know. I've seen the choir in Saint Peter's at Rome."

Only once did he appear greatly astonished. That was when the offering was taken and a certain dignified magnate, whose fame as a king of finance is world-wide, officiated as one of the collectors.

"Heavens and earth!" murmured Captain Elisha, staring wide-eyed at the unmistakable features so often pictured and cartooned in the daily papers; "Caroline--Caroline, am I seein' things or is that--is that--"

"That is Mr. ----," whispered his niece. "He is one of the vestrymen here."

"My soul!" still gazing after the Emperor of Wall Street; "_Him_ pa.s.sin'

the plate! Well," with a grim smile, "whoever picked him out for the job has got judgment. If _he_ can't make a body sh.e.l.l out, n.o.body can."

He listened to the sermon, the text of which was from the Beat.i.tudes, with outward solemnity, but with a twinkle in his eye. After the benediction, when Caroline asked how he enjoyed it, the cause of the twinkle became apparent.

"Fine!" he declared, with enthusiasm. "He's a smart preacher, ain't he!

And he knew his congregation. You might not guess they was meek perhaps, but they certainly did look as if they'd inherited the earth."

He drew a breath of relief as the trio emerged into the open air. He had enjoyed the novel experience, in a way, but now he felt rather like one let out of jail. The quiet luncheon at home with Caroline was a pleasant antic.i.p.ation.

But Mrs. Corcoran Dunn smashed his antic.i.p.ation at a blow. She insisted that he and his niece lunch with her.

"You really must, you know," she declared. "It will be delightful. Just a little family party."

Captain Elisha looked distressed. "Thank you, ma'am," he stammered; "it's awful kind of you, but I wouldn't feel right to go puttin' you to all that trouble. Just as much obliged, but I--I've got a letter to write, you see."

Mrs. Dunn bore his refusal bravely.

"Very well," she said, "but Caroline _must_ come with me. I told Malcolm I should bring her."

"Sure! Sartin! Caroline can go, of course."

But Caroline also declined. Having misjudged her guardian in the matter of the Moriarty family, she was in a repentant mood, and had marked that day on her calendar as one of self-sacrifice.

"No, Captain Warren," she said, "I shall not go unless you do."

"Then the captain will come, of course," declared Mrs. Dunn, with decision. "I'm sure he will not be so selfish as to deprive me--and Malcolm--of your company."

So, because he did not wish to appear selfish, Captain Elisha admitted that his letter might be written later in the afternoon, accepted the invitation, and braced his spirit for further martyrdom.

It was not as bad as he expected. The Dunns occupied a small, brown-stone house on Fifth Avenue, somewhat old-fas.h.i.+oned, but eminently respectable. The paintings and bronzes were as numerous as those in the Warren apartment, and if the taste shown in their selection was not that of Rodgers Warren, the connoisseur, they made quite as much show, and the effect upon Captain Elisha was the same. The various mortgages on the property were not visible, and the tradesmen's bills were securely locked in Mrs. Dunn's desk.

The luncheon itself was elaborate, and there was a butler whose majestic dignity and importance made even Edwards seem plebeian by comparison.

Malcolm was at home when they arrived, irreproachably dressed and languidly non-effusive, as usual. Captain Elisha, as he often said, did not "set much store" by clothes; but there was something about this young man which always made him conscious that his own trousers were a little too short, or his boots too heavy, or something. "I wouldn't _wear_ a necktie like his," he wrote Abbie, after his first meeting with Malcolm, "but blessed if I don't wish I could _if_ I would!"

Caroline, in the course of conversation during the luncheon, mentioned the Moriartys and their sorrow. The captain tried to head her off and to change the subject, but with little success. He was uncomfortable and kept glancing under his brows at Malcolm, with whom, under the circ.u.mstances, he could not help sympathizing to an extent. But his sympathy was wasted. The young man did not appear in the slightest degree nervous. The memory of his recent interview with Captain Elisha did not embarra.s.s him, outwardly at least, half as much as it did the captain. He declared that old Pat's death was beastly hard luck, but accidents were bound to happen. It was a shame, and all that. "If there's anything the mater and I can do, Caroline, call on us, of course."

"Yes, do, Caroline," concurred his mother. "However, one must be philosophic in such cases. It is a mercy that people in their station do not feel grief and loss as we do. Providence, in its wisdom, has limited their susceptibilities as it has their intelligence. Don't you agree with me, Captain Warren?"

"Sartin!" was the prompt reply. "It's always a comfort to me, when I go fis.h.i.+n', to know that the fish ain't got so much brains as I have. The hook hurts, I presume likely, but they ain't got the sense to realize what a mean trick's been played on 'em. The one that's caught's dead, and them that are left are too busy hustlin' for the next meal to waste much time grievin'. That eases my conscience consider'ble."

Caroline seemed to be the only one who appreciated the sarcasm in this observation. She frowned slightly. Mrs. Corcoran Dunn tolerantly smiled, and her son laughed aloud.

"Say, Admiral," he commented, "when it comes to philosophy you go some yourself, don't you?"

"Um-hm. I can be as philosophical about other folk's troubles as anybody I ever see." Then, with an involuntary chuckle of admiration at the young gentleman's coolness, he added, "That is, anybody I ever see afore I come to New York."

Malcolm opened his mouth to reply, but closed it again. The captain, noticing his change of purpose and following the direction of his look, saw Mrs. Dunn shake her head in sharp disapproval. He ate the remainder of his salad in silence, but he thought a good deal.

"And now," said Mrs. Dunn, rising and leading the way to the drawing-room, "we must all go for a motor ride. Everyone rides on Sunday afternoon," she explained, turning to her male guest.

The distressed look returned to Captain Elisha's face. His niece saw it, understood, and came to his rescue.

"I think Captain Warren prefers to be excused," she said, smiling. "He has a prejudice against automobiles."

"No!" drawled Malcolm, the irrepressible. "Not really? Admiral, I'm surprised! In these days, you know!"

"It ain't so much the automobiles," snapped Captain Elisha, irritation getting the better of his discretion, "as 'tis the devilish fools that--"