Rose O'Paradise Part 11

Mrs. Grandoken arose hastily.

"Course 'tis, Lafe! But don't brag 'cause you made sixty cents. You might a lost your hands same's your feet. 'Tain't no credit to you you didn't. Here, let me wrap you up better! You'll freeze all that's left of your legs, if you don't."

"Them legs ain't much good," sighed the cobbler. "They might as well be off; mightn't they, Peg?"

Peggy wrapped a worn blanket tightly about her husband.

"You oughter be ashamed," she growled darkly. "Ain't you every day sayin' there's always to-morrow?"

This time her voice was toned with finality, and she turned and went out.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "I GUESS THEY WON'T EAT MUCH, BECAUSE MILLY ANN CATCHES ALL KIND OF LIVE THINGS. I DON'T LIKE HER TO DO THAT, BUT I HEARD SHE WAS BORN THAT WAY AND CAN'T HELP IT."]

CHAPTER VI

PEG'S BARK

Virginia and Lafe Grandoken sat for some time with nothing but the tick-tack of the hammer to break the silence.

"It bein' the first time you've visited us, kid," broke in the man, pausing, "you can't be knowin' just what's made us live this way."

Virginia made a negative gesture and smiled, settling herself hopefully for a story, but Lafe brought a frightened expression quickly to her face by his low, even voice, and the ominous meaning of his words.

"Me an' Peg's awful poor," said he.

"Then mebbe I'd better not stay, Mr. Lafe," faltered Jinnie.

The cobbler threaded his fingers through his hair.

"The shanty's awful small," he interjected, thoughtfully.

"I think it's awful nice, though," offered the girl. Some thought closed her blue eyes, but they flashed open instantly.

"Cobbler," she faltered, "is Mrs. Peggy mad when she grits her teeth and wags her head?"

As if by its own volition the cobbler's hammer stayed itself in the air.

"No," he smiled, "just when she acts the worst is when she's likely to do her best ... I've knowed Peggy this many a year."

"She was a wee little bit cross to me," commented the girl.

"Was she? I didn't hear anything she said."

"I'll tell you, then, Mr. Lafe," said Virginia. "When I was standing by the fire warming my hands, she come bustling out and looked awful mad. She said something about folks keeping their girls to home."

"Well, what after that?" asked the cobbler, as Jinnie hesitated.

"She said she could see me eating my head off, and as long as I had to hide from my uncle, I wouldn't be able to earn my salt."

"Well, that's right," affirmed the cobbler, wagging his head. "You got to keep low for a while. Your Uncle Morse knows a lot of folks in this town."

"But they don't know me," said Virginia.

"That's good," remarked Lafe.

As he said this, Peg opened the door roughly and ordered them in to breakfast.

Virginia sat beside the cobbler at the meager meal. On the table were three bowls of hot mush. As the fragrant odor rose to her nostrils, waves of joy crept slowly through the young body.

"Peggy 'lowed you'd be hungry, kid," said the cobbler, pus.h.i.+ng a bowl in front of her.

Mrs. Grandoken interrupted her husband with a growl.

"If I've any mem'ry, you 'lowed it yourself, Lafe Grandoken," she muttered.

A smile deepened on the cobbler's face and a slight flush rose to his forehead.

"I 'lowed it, too, Peggy dear," he said.

"Eat your mush," snapped the woman, "an', Lafe, don't 'Peggy dear' me.

I hate it; see?"

Virginia refused to believe the startling words. She would have adored being called "dear." In Lafe's voice, great love rang out; in the woman's, she scarcely knew what. She glanced from one to the other as the cobbler lifted his head. He was always thanking some one in some unknown place for the priceless gift of his woman.

"I'll 'Peggy dear' you whenever I feel like it, wife," he said gravely, "for G.o.d knows you're awful dear to me, Peg."

Mrs. Grandoken ignored his speech, but when she returned from the stove, her voice was a little more gentle.

"You can both stuff your innards with hot mush. You can't starve on that.... Here, kid, sit a little nearer!"

So Virginia Singleton, the lame cobbler, and Peggy began their first meal, facing a new day, which to Lafe was yesterday's to-morrow.

A little later Virginia followed the wheel chair into the cobbler's shop. Peggy grumblingly left them to return to her duties in the kitchen.

"Terrible cold day this," Lafe observed, picking up a shoe. "The wind's blowin' forty miles the hour."

Virginia's next remark was quite irrelevant to the wind.

"I'm hoping Mrs. Peggy'll get the money she was talking about."

"Did she tell you she needed some?"

Virginia nodded, and when she spoke again, her tongue was parched and dry.