第50章

I met Mabel Colton several times during the following week.Once, at the place where I had met her before, in the grove by the edge of the bluff, and again walking up the Lane in company with her father.Once also on the Lower Road, though that could scarcely be called a meeting, for I was afoot and she and her father and mother were in the automobile.

Only at the meeting in the grove were words exchanged between us.

She bowed pleasantly and commented on the wonderful view.

"I am trespassing again, you see," she said."Taking advantage of your good-nature, Mr.Paine.This spot is the most attractive Ihave found in Denboro."

I observed that the view from her verandas must be almost the same.

"Almost, but not quite," she said."These pines shut off the inlet below, and all the little fishing boats.One of them is yours, Isuppose.Which?"

"That is my launch there," I replied, pointing.

"The little white one? You built it yourself, I think Father said.""He was mistaken, if he said that.I am not clever enough to build a boat, Miss Colton.I bought the Comfort, second-hand."I don't know why I added the "second-hand." Probably because I had not yet freed my mind from the bitterness--yes, and envy--which the sight of this girl and her people always brought with it.It is comparatively easy to be free from envy if one is what George Taylor termed a "never-was"; for a "has been" it is harder.

The boat's name was the only portion of my remark which attracted her attention.

"The Comfort?" she repeated."That is a jolly name for a pleasure boat.""It is my mother's name," I answered.

"Is it? Why, I remember now.Miss Dean told me.I beg your pardon, Mr.Paine.It is a pretty name, at all events.""Thank you."

"I must have misunderstood Father.I was sure he said that boat building was your business.""No.He saw me overhauling the engine, and perhaps that gave him the impression that I was a builder.I told him I was not, but no doubt he forgot.I have no business, Miss Colton."I think she was surprised.She glanced at me curiously and her lips opened as if to ask another question.She did not ask it however, and, except for a casual remark or two about the view and the blueness of the water in the bay, she said nothing more.Irather expected she would refer to her intention of calling on Mother, but she did not mention the subject.I inferred that she had thought better of her whim.

On the other occasions when we met she merely bowed."Big Jim"nodded carelessly.Mrs.Colton, from her seat in the auto, nodded also, though her majestic bow could scarcely be termed a nod.It was more like the acknowledgment, by a queen in her chariot, of the applauding citizen on the sidewalk.She saw me, and she deigned to let me know that I was seen, that was all.

But when I inferred that her daughter had forgotten, or had decided not to make the call at our house, I misjudged the young lady.Ireturned, one afternoon, from a cruise up and down the bay in the Comfort, to find our small establishment--the Rogers portion of it, at least--in a high state of excitement.Lute and Dorinda were in the kitchen and before I reached the back door, which was open, Iheard their voices in animated discussion.

"Why wouldn't I say it, Dorinda?" pleaded Lute."You can't blame me none.There I was, with my sleeves rolled up and just settin'

in the chair, restin' my arms a jiffy and thinkin' which window I'd wash next, when there come that knock at the door.Thinks I, 'It's Asa Peters' daughter's young-one peddlin' clams.' That's what come to my mind fust.That idee popped right into my head, it did.""Found plenty of room when it got there, I cal'late," snapped Dorinda."Must have felt lonesome.""That's it! keep on pitchin' into me.I swan to man! sometimes Iget so discouraged and wore out and reckless--hello! here's Ros.

You ask him now! Ros, she's layin' into me because I didn't understand what--""Roscoe," broke in his wife, "I never was more mortified in all my born days.He--""Let me tell you all about it, Ros.I went to the door--thinkin'

'twas a peddler, you know; had this old suit on, all sloshed up with soapsuds and water, and a wet rag in my hand; and there she stood, styled up like the Queen of Sheby.Well, sir! I'll leave it to you if 'tain't enough to surprise anybody.HER! comin' HERE!""That wan't any reason why you should behave like a natural born--""Hold on! you let me finish tellin' Roscoe.'Good afternoon,' says she.'Is Mrs.Paine in?' Said it just like that, she did.I was so flustered up from the sight of her that I didn't sense it right off and I says, 'What ma'am?' 'Is Mrs.Paine in?' says she.'In?'

says I--"

"Just like a poll parrot," interjected Dorinda.

"Are you goin' to let me tell this or ain't you? 'In?' says I;hadn't sensed it yet, you see.'Is Mrs.Paine to home?' she says.

Now your ma, Ros, ain't never been nowheres else BUT home sence land knows when, so I supposed she must mean somebody else.'Who?'

says I, again.'Mrs.Comfort Paine,' says she.She raised her voice a little; guessed I was deef, probably.""If she'd guessed you was dumb she wouldn't have been fur off,"commented Dorinda.I had not seen her so disturbed for many a day.

Her husband disdained to notice this interruption.

"'Mrs.Comfort Paine,' says she," he continued."'She is in? And I says 'In?'""No, you didn't.You said, 'In where?' And she had all she could do to keep from laughin'.I see her face as I got to the door, and it's a mercy I got there when I did.Land knows what you'd have said next!""But, Dorindy, I tell you I thought--"