第71章

"I needed the impertinence, I guess.But frankly, Miss Colton, Ican't see why you should be glad because I have gone to work.Ican't see what difference my working or idling can possibly make to you.""Oh, it doesn't, of course--except on general principles.I am a dreadful idler myself; but then, I am a woman, and idleness is a woman's right."I thought of Dorinda and of the other housewives of Denboro and how little of that particular "right" they enjoyed; which thought brought again and forcibly to my mind the difference between this girl's life and theirs--and Mother's--and my own.

"A man," continued Miss Colton, sagely, "should not idle.He should work and work hard--so that the rest of us may be as good for nothing as we please.That is philosophy, isn't it?""Yes."

"You were good enough not to say what sort of philosophy.Thank you.But seriously, Mr.Paine, I am fond of your mother--very fond, considering our short acquaintance--and when I saw her lying there, so patient, and deprived of the little luxuries and conveniences which she needs, and which a little more money might bring to her, it seemed to me...Gracious! what a lot of nonsense I am talking! What is the matter with me this afternoon?

Do let's change the subject.Have you sold your land yet, Mr.

Paine? Of course you haven't! That is more nonsense, isn't it."I think she had again spoken merely on the impulse of the moment;doubtless there was no deliberate intention on her part to bring me to a realization of my position, the position I occupied in her thoughts; but if she had had such an intent she could not have done it more effectively.She believed me to have been neglecting Mother, and her interest in my "doing something worth while" was inspired merely because she wished Mother to be supplied with those "luxuries and conveniences" she had mentioned.Well, my question was answered; this was the difference my working or idling made to her.And, for a minute or two, I had been foolish enough to fancy her interested, as a friend, in my success or failure in life.Imight have known better.And yet, because of the novelty of the thing, because I had so few friends, I felt a pang of disappointment.

But I resolved she should not know she had disappointed me.Imight have been a fool, but I would keep my foolishness a secret.

"No, Miss Colton," I said, with a smile, "I haven't sold yet.""Father said he saw you at the bank.Did he say anything about the land?""He said his offer was still open, that was all.""You are resolved not to sell."

"To him? Yes, I am resolved.I think he knows it.I tried to make it plain.""You say to him.Are you thinking of selling to any one else? To the town?""No.Probably not to any one.Certainly not to your father or the town."She looked at me, with an odd expression, and seemed to hesitate.

"Mr.Paine," she said, slowly, "would you resent my giving you another bit of--advice?""Not at all.What is it this time?"

"Why, nothing.I must not give you any advice at all.I won't.

Instead I'll give you one of Father's pet proverbs.It isn't an elegant one, but he is very fond of repeating it.'There are more ways of killing a cat than choking it to death with butter.'

There! you will admit it is not elegant.""But Miss Colton! Killing a cat! What in the world?""You mustn't ask me.I shouldn't have said even that.But remember, it is father's pet proverb.I must go.Please give my love to your mother and tell her I shall call again soon.

Good-by."

She walked briskly away and did not look back.I went home.Ithought a great deal during the evening and until late that night.

When, at last, I did go to bed I had not made much progress in the problem of the cat, but I did believe that there was a rat in the vicinity.I was beginning to scent one.If I was not mistaken it called itself the Bay Shore Development Company.

I said nothing to Mother of the new proposal to buy our land, but next morning at the bank I wrote a letter to the cashier of a bank in Boston, one of our correspondents, and with which our little institution was on very friendly terms.I asked the cashier to make some guarded inquiries concerning the Bay Shore Company, to find out, if possible, who was behind it and also to inquire concerning Barclay and Keene, the real estate brokers of Milk Street.

The reply to my letter reached me on Friday.It was satisfactory, eminently so.And when, on Saturday afternoon, Mr.Keene, bland and smiling as ever, made his appearance at the house, I was ready for him.I stood on the step and made no move to invite him within."Well, Mr.Paine," he said, cordially, "are you ready to talk business?""Quite ready," I answered.

He beamed with satisfaction.

"Good!" he exclaimed."Then what is your figure?""My figure is a naught," I replied, with emphasis."You may tell your employer that I do not care to sell the land to him, no matter whether he calls himself James Colton or the Bay Shore Development Company.Oh yes; and, if you like, you may add that this particular cat declines to be choked."Mr.Keene showed signs of choking, himself, and I shut the door and left him outside.Lute, who had been listening at the dining-room window and had heard only fragments of the brief interview, was in a state of added incoherence.

"Well, by time!" he gasped."What--what sort of talk was that?

Chokin' a cat! A cat!! We ain't got no cat.""Haven't we?" I observed."Why, no, so we haven't! Perhaps you had better explain that to Mr.Keene, Lute.It may help him to understand the situation.And add that I suggest his telling the person who sent him here that soft-soap is no improvement on butter."I think Lute did tell him just that, doubtless with all sorts of excuses for my insanity, for the next day, Sunday, as I walked along the beach, a big body came ploughing down the sandy slope and joined me.

"Hello!" said Colton.

"Good morning," said I.