Westways: A Village Chronicle Part 57

"What else you do depends on her condition of mind and the extent to which you are willing to give way before the persistency of a woman who feels and does not or can not reason."

"Then I am not now to do anything but tell her that I will take her stock out of the business."

"That may relieve her. So far I can go with you. But, my dear Penhallow, she may be utterly unreasonable about your manufacture of cannon, and what then you may do I cannot say. How long will it be before you begin to turn out cannon?"

"Oh, two months or more. Many changes will be needed, but we have meanwhile an order for rails from the Baltimore and Ohio."

"Then we can wait. Now I am off for Grey Pine. See me about noon. Don't go back home now. That's all."

While the Squire walked away to the mills, McGregor was uneasily moving his ponderous bulk to and fro in the room.

"It's his d.a.m.n tender, soft-hearted ways that will win in the end. My old Indian guide used to say, 'Much stick, good squaw.' Ann Penhallow has never in her whole life had any stick. d.a.m.n these sugar plum husbands! I'd like to know what Miss Leila Grey thinks of this performance. Now, there's a woman!"

When after a night of deep sleep Ann woke to find Leila standing by her bed, she rose on an elbow saying, "What time is it? Why are you here?"

"It is eight, aunt. You were ill last night; I stayed on your lounge."

Now her aunt sat up. "I was ill, you say-something happened." The thing pieced itself together-ragged bits of memories storm-scattered by emotion were rea.s.sembled, vague at first, then quickly more clear. She broke into unnaturally rapid speech, reddening darkly, with ominous dilatation of the pupils of her large blue eyes. "And so James Penhallow is to be made rich by making cannon to kill my people-oh, I remember!" It seemed absurdly childlike to Leila, who heard her with amazement. "And with my money-it is easy to stay at home and murder-and be paid for it. Let him go and-fight. That's bad enough-I-"

"G.o.d of Heaven, Aunt Ann!" the girl broke in, "don't dare to say that to Uncle Jim. Are you crazy-to say such things."

"I don't know what I am. Oh, those cannon! I hear them. He shall not do it-do you hear me? Now send me up a cup of tea-and don't come in again. I want James-tell him-tell him."

"He went away to the mills at six o'clock."

"I know. He is afraid to talk to me-I want to see him-send for him at once. I said at once-do you hear! Now go."

As Leila turned to leave, she heard a knock at the door, said "Come in," and to her relief saw enter large and smiling the trusted doctor. As he neared the bed, Ann fell back speechless and rigid.

"Ah, Leila! That makes it all plain. There is no danger. Close the blinds; I want the room darkened. So! Come into the back room-leave the door ajar." He selected a trustworthy chair and sat down with deliberate care. "Now listen to me, my dear. This is pure hysteria. It may last for days or weeks-it will get well. It is the natural result of birth, education, worry, etc.-and a lot of darned et ceteras. When you let loose a mob of emotions, you get into trouble-they smash things, and this is what has become of one of G.o.d's sweetest, purest souls."

"It is most dreadful, Doctor; but what shall we do with Uncle Jim. If she has a mere cold in the head, he is troubled."

"Yes-yes." The doctor took counsel with himself. "I will send up old Mrs. Lamb to help you-she is wise in the ways of sick women. Take your rides-and don't fret over this suicide of reason." He was pleased with his phrase. "Let her see Penhallow if she asks for him, but not if you can help it. It is all as plain as day. She has been living of late a life of unwholesome suppression. She has been alarmed by Penhallow's looks, hurt by her brothers' quarrels, and heart-sick about the war and John. Then your uncle springs on her this contract business and there is an explosion."

After giving careful orders, he went away. To Penhallow he said, "When you are at home keep out of her room. If you have to see her, tell her nothing has been done or will be for months. The time will come when you will have to discuss matters."

CHAPTER XX

Leila Grey never forgot the month which followed. Penhallow was mercifully spared the sight of the drama of hysteria, and when not at the mills went about the house and farm like a lost dog; or, if Leila was busy, took refuge with Rivers. Even the war maps claimed no present interest until a letter came from John after the capture of Port Donaldson. At evening they found the place on the map.

"Well, now let's hear it. Ann is better, McGregor says," He was as readily elated as depressed. "Does she ask for me?"

"No," said Leila, "at first she did, but not now."

"Read the letter, my dear."

"DEAR LEILA: I wrote to Aunt Ann and Uncle Jim a fortnight ago-"

"Never came," said Penhallow.

"I am called an engineer, but there is no engineering required, so I am any General's n.i.g.g.e.r. I have been frozen and thawed over and over. No camp fires allowed, and our frozen 15,000 besieged 21,000 men. General S.T. Smith picked me up as an aide, and on the 15th personally led a charge on the Rebel lines, walking quietly in front of our men to keep them from firing. It did not prevent the Rebs from abusing our neutrality. It was not very agreeable, but we stormed their lines and I got off with a bit out of my left shoulder-nothing of moment. Now we have them. If this war goes on, Grant will be the man who will end it. I am too cold to write more. Love to all.

"General Smith desires to be remembered to Uncle Jim, and told me he was more than satisfied with

"Yours,

"JOHN PENHALLOW."

"Isn't that delightful, Uncle Jim? But every night I think of it-this facing of death. I see battles and storming parties. Don't you see things before you fall asleep? I can see whatever I want to see-or don't want to."

"Never saw anything of the kind-I just go to sleep."

"I thought everybody could see things as I do."

"See John too, Leila? Wish I could."

"Yes," she said, "sometimes." In fact, she could see at will the man who was so near and so dear and a friend to-day-and in that very lonely time when the house was still and the mind going off guard, the something indefinitely more.

The Squire, who had been studying the map, was now standing before the fire looking up where hung over the mantel his sword and the heavy army pistols. He turned away as he said, "Life is pretty hard, Leila. I ought to be here-here making guns. I want to be where my cla.s.s-mates are in the field. I can't see my way, Leila. When I see a duty clearly, I can do it. Now here I have to decide what is my duty. There is no devil like indecision. What would you do?"

"It is a question as to what you will do, not I-and-oh, dear Uncle Jim, it is, you know, what we call in that horrid algebra the X of the equation."

"I must see your Aunt Ann. Is she"-and he hesitated-"is she herself?"-he would not say, quite, sane.

"She is not at all times."

"How far must I consider her, or be guided by the effect my decision will have on her? There are my partners to consider. The money does not influence me-it is Ann-Ann." Then she knew that he would make any sacrifice necessary to set Ann Penhallow at ease. "I think," she said as she rose, "that we had better go to bed."

"I suppose so," he said. "Wait a moment. Your aunt told me that I had better go where there was war-she could not have guessed that I have lived for months with that temptation. I shall end by accepting a command. Now since her reproach I shall feel that war offers the bribe of ease and relief from care."

"I know, the call of duty-you will have to go. But, oh, my G.o.d! it is very terrible."

"The fact is, this sudden good fortune for a time so set me at ease that I lost sight of my honest craving for action. Now I ought to thank Ann for making me see what I ought to do-must do. But how-how? It will clear up somehow. Goodnight."

It was the end of March before McGregor told Penhallow that Mrs. Penhallow insisted on seeing him. "Now, Squire," he said, "you will be shocked at her appearance, but she is really well in body, and this thing has got to be set at rest. She talks of it incessantly."

Penhallow entered the dimly lighted room and pa.s.sed his old nurse, Mrs. Lamb, as she whispered, "Don't stay long, sir." He was shocked as he won clearer vision in the dim light.

"Oh, James!" she said, "they wouldn't let me see you. Open the shutters." He obeyed, and kneeling kissed the wasted face he loved so well. The commonplaces of life came to his aid as he kissed her again, and she said, "Dear me, James, you haven't shaved to-day."

"No, I am going to stop at the barber's-but I miss Josiah."

She smiled. "Yes, poor Josiah."

Then he took courage, fearfully timid as men are when they confront the illness of women. "I want to say to you, Ann, that having your power of attorney I have withdrawn your fifty thousand dollars you had lent to the mills. My partners were glad to take it." He said nothing of their surprise at the offer.

"Thank you," she returned feebly. "And you are going on with the business?" her voice rising as she spoke.

"We will talk of that later, Ann. I was told not to let you talk long. I shall endeavour to invest your money so as to give you a reasonable return-it will take time."