Eldredge had hinted that he intended arranging an interview between Colton and myself.The prospect did not appeal to me.At first Idecided to go home at once, but something akin to Captain Dean's resentful stubbornness came over me.I would not be driven home by those people.I found an unoccupied camp chair--one of Sim's, which he rented for funerals--and carried it to a dark spot in the shrubbery near the border of the parsonage lawn and not far from the gate.There I seated myself, lit a cigar and smoked in solitude.
Elnathan Mullet, evidently considering his labors as door-keeper over, was counting his takings by lantern light.The moon was low in the west and a little breeze was now stirring the shrubbery.It was very warm for the season and I mentally prophesied thunder showers before morning.
I had smoked my cigar perhaps half through when a carriage came down the road and stopped before the gate.The driver leaned forward and called to Mullet.
"Hi, Uncle!" he shouted."You, by the gate! Is Mr.Colton here?"Elnathan, who was, apparently, half asleep, looked up.
"Hey?" he queried."Mr.Colton? Yes, he's here.Want him, do you?""Yes.Where is he?"
"Up yonder somewheres.There he is, by Sarah Burgess's table.Mr.
Colton! Mr.Col--ton! Somebody wants ye!""What in blazes did you yell like that for?" protested the coachman, springing from the carriage."Stop it, d'ye hear?""You said you wanted him, didn't you? Mr.Colton! Hi! Come here!"Colton came hurrying down to the gate, his daughter following more slowly.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
The coachman touched his hat.
"I beg your pardon, sir," he said; "this man started yelling before I could stop him.I was coming to tell you.Mrs.Colton says she's very nervous, sir, and please come home at once."Colton turned with a shrug to his daughter."We might have expected it, Mabel," he said."Come."But the young lady seemed to hesitate."I believe I won't go yet, Father," she said."Mother doesn't need both of us.Victor will be here very soon, and we promised to wait for him, you know.""We can leave word.You'd better come, Mabel.Heavens and earth!
you don't want any MORE of this, do you?"It was evident that he had had quite enough of the festival.She laughed lightly.
"I'm finding it very entertaining," she said."I never saw so many quaint people.There is one girl, a Miss Dean, whom I am really getting acquainted with.She's as country as can be, but she's very interesting.""Humph! she must be.Dean, hey? Daughter of my particular friend, the ancient mariner, I suppose.I don't like to leave you here.
What shall I tell your mother?"
"Tell her I am quite safe and in perfectly respectable company.""Humph! I can imagine how respectable she'll think it is.Well, Iknow it's useless to urge if you have made up your mind.I don't see where you get your stubbornness from.""Don't you? I can guess."
"It isn't from your dad.Now do be careful, won't you? If Victor doesn't come soon I shall send the carriage.""Oh, he will come.It's all right, Father, dear.I am quite able to take care of myself."Her father shook his head."Yes," he observed, "I guess you are.
All right, Jenkins."
He got into the carriage and was driven off.Miss Colton turned and walked back to the tables.I relit my cigar.
Another half-hour passed.
Mullet finished his counting, took up his money box and lantern and left the gate unguarded.Groups of home-going people began to come down the hill.Horses, which had been standing under the church sheds or hitched in neighboring yards, appeared and the various buggies and two-seaters to which they were attached were filled and driven away.Captain Warren and Miss Abbie Baker, his housekeeper, were among the first to leave.Abijah Hammond, the sexton, began taking down the lanterns.The strawberry festival was almost over.
I rose from my camp chair and prepared to start for home.As Istepped from behind the shrubbery the moonlight suddenly went out, as if it had been turned off like a gas jet.Except for the few remaining lanterns and the gleams from the church windows and door the darkness was complete.I looked at the western sky.It was black, and low down along the horizon flashes of lightning were playing.My prophecy of showers was to be fulfilled.
The ladies of the Methodist Society, assisted by their husbands and male friends, were hurrying the tables and chairs indoors.Ipicked up and folded the chair I had been occupying and joined the busy group.It was so dark that faces were almost invisible, but Irecognized Sim Eldredge by his voice, and George Taylor and Ibumped into each other as we seized the same table.
"Hello, Ros!" exclaimed the cashier."Thought you'd gone.Going to have a tempest, ain't we.""Tempest" is Cape Cod for thunderstorm.I agreed that one was imminent.
"Hold on till I get this stuff into the vestry," continued Taylor, "and I'll drive you home.I'll be ready pretty soon."I declined the invitation."I'll walk," I answered."You have Nellie to look after.If you have a spare umbrella I'll borrow that.Where is Nellie?""Oh, she's over yonder with Miss Colton.They have been making each other's acquaintance.Say, Ros, she's a good deal of a girl, that Colton one, did you know it?"I did not answer.
"Oh, I know you're down on the whole lot of 'em," he added, laughing; "but she is, just the same.Kind of top-lofty and condescending, but that's the fault of her bringing-up.She's all right underneath.Too good for that Carver cub.By the way, if he doesn't come pretty soon I'll phone her pa to send the carriage for her.If I was Colton I wouldn't put much confidence in Carver's showing up in a hurry.You saw the gang he was with, didn't you?
