Part 53 (1/2)

This he tied with the flowers to the mysterious cylinder and handed them to the grinning negro.

”Don't muss things up,” he admonished. ”And you know who to give them to!”

”I knows you ain' sendin' no flowers to Ma.r.s.e Bob or li'l Bip,” the grin became broader.

Then Brent continued his walk. He felt that he could never be quiet again. The Colonel, when he came down, was too much occupied with his own thoughts to notice this restlessness, but, as a woman appeared to serve breakfast, he asked:

”Where is Zack?”

”I'm to blame,” Brent answered. ”I sent him over to Bob's with a little remembrance. This is Jane's birthday, you know!”

”Why, so it is!” But then he looked fixedly across at Brent, and began to raise up slowly out of his chair. ”You didn't send the--the railroad?”

Brent nodded, whereupon the old gentleman threw down his napkin and the next instant they were clasped in each other's arms, dancing about the room, boisterously laughing, kicking, and greatly imperiling the furniture. As they stopped, Miss Liz was standing in the door, her hands up in an att.i.tude of abject horror.

”My dear,” the old gentleman panted, ”Brent has finished the railroad and just this morning sent it over to Jane! We're celebrating!”

”Oh,” she sank into her place with a sigh of relief, ”I am so thankful it is no worse!”

”Worse! Why, G.o.d bless my--” but he checked himself in Miss Liz's presence.

”Did your father say you sent it to Jane?” she asked Brent, now thoroughly mystified, but sharing the happiness which could not be denied anyone in that room just then. ”My dear boy, I am so glad!--and Dale will be so glad!”

”Where is Dale?” the men inquired.

Zack being away, and the maid not permitted in Bachelors' Belfry at this hour, Brent was for running up to call him, but the Colonel objected.

”He may be asleep, and that will do him more good than food which he can get at his pleasure!”

Immediately after breakfast Brent eluded the old gentleman and went out beyond the gate to watch for Zack. Up and down the cedar bordered avenue he walked, checking off the eternities which pa.s.sed before the mule ambled into view.

”I wouldn' a-been so long, Ma.r.s.e Brent,” Zack began apologizing and fumbling in his pocket for a note, ”but Miss Jane jest nach.e.l.ly taken a hour writin' dis!”

Now he was as impatient to be away from Zack as he had been for Zack to come. A few minutes later, down in the woodland pasture under a spreading beech, he stretched at full length in the bluegra.s.s and reverently gazed at the little envelope. His own note had not called for an answer of great--indeed, of any--importance. (The first one had, and the second!--but the last was, he thought, a model of convention.) However, Zack had said she was a long time writing it;--at least, his eyes could lingeringly dwell over line after line, page after page, traced by her hand!

What did meet his eyes was:

”This is the happiest birthday I have ever known!”

He wondered if she, too, had found note writing difficult!

As the morning wore on he saw the family carriage, with Uncle Zack in his beaver hat, move toward the pike, and he surmised that the Colonel, Nancy and Miss Liz were going in state to pay their respects to Jane.

Then he went slowly home. It was very quiet with them away. Someone back near the kitchen was turning an ice cream freezer, which produced a rather unpleasant suggestion of Sunday company, and a long and tiresome feast. He saw the upstairs maid.

”Where's Mister Dale?”

”He's done gone out, sah.”