Part 50 (1/2)

”She's in mighty bad shape, dat's how she is!”

The Colonel stood a great deal from Timmie and Zack, for much less than a tenth of which he would have sent another negro off his place in double quick.

”Who is the lady?” he asked, not over pleased at her humor.

”Nem'min' who de lady is! But she's a suah-footed, elegant an' lovely angel, dat's got moh human kindness in her den anyone I sees a-lookin'

at _me_!”

”Come, come,” the Colonel frowned, ”don't answer me in this childish way! Who is the lady?”

”Well, take a peep--bofe of you--but mind, don' make no fuss!”

She edged to one side, all the while watching Brent as they came near for the promised peep. His face flushed quickly, but the Colonel looked more carefully and, turning, whispered:

”I can't see her! Who is it?”

As she told them how Nancy had come, tears gathered in the old gentleman's eyes and his chin quivered with strong emotion.

”See that she wants for nothing,” he said gently. ”When the doctor is through, bring her right over and have everything comfortable.”

”I'se done planned dat out, Ma.r.s.e John,” she spoke with her more accustomed tenderness. ”She's gwine have de room 'crost from Miss Liz, an' fresh _boo_-kays eve'y day. We'se comin' over 'foh long, too; fer de doctor say he ain' gwine take no moh skin offen her.” Then suddenly she exclaimed: ”What, in de land sake, is de matter wid you-all's pants?”

But he had turned, and in deep thought started across the gra.s.s to the big house, leaving her in open-mouthed amazement.

”One doesn't see much handsomer things than that girl has showed us,” he said to Brent, who was keeping somewhat in advance.

”No,” he answered over his shoulder.

Awhile longer the old gentleman walked with bowed head, then asked:

”Why your abstraction, sir?”

Brent wheeled and faced him. He was crimson with shame, and blurted out two short sentences:

”I'm a pup, Colonel! I've no right to walk with you!”

”Eh--wha--what do you mean, sir?”

The old gentleman stood rooted to the spot, one foot in advance as he had just begun his last stride. He had not even raised his head, but was looking up from under frowsy brows with eyes that were grave and startled. Against his will some old whisperings of months ago insistently recurred to him.

Brent now took a few steps back and fearlessly met those accusing eyes.

”One time I tried to hurt that girl,” he said squarely. ”I got her to meet me at night, because she didn't know any better, and I didn't give a d.a.m.n. But she showed me what a scoundrel I had intended to be then, and she's just showed me again. She told me about Dale's blind sister then, and now she's telling that all over again, too. It gets next to me, Colonel, and if anybody wants to kick me about your farm till dinner, he can begin when he's ready!”

”All right--er--Gridley,” the old gentleman smiled. ”In the ratio of your repentance I feel proportionately happy. You've relieved my mind of a cloud that has shut out a lot of suns.h.i.+ne these past months, which otherwise would have been entirely bright. So I absolve you, sir! Now let the talk die.”

”Talk?” Brent flushed a deeper red. ”Are they saying anything about it?”