Part 2 (1/2)

The door was open and he went straight in and along the hall towards the minister's study. As he did so a door at the opposite end of the hall opened suddenly and admitted a round black face and an ample red-ap.r.o.ned figure.

”Good mawnin', Missy Viney!” drawled the visitor. ”I done wanta see de ministah, bress de Lawd!”

Viney's white eyeb.a.l.l.s and s.h.i.+ning teeth flashed him a welcome.

”Laws-a-me, Lawya Ed! Is you-all gwine get marrit?”

Viney was a fat, jolly young woman, whom Mrs. Leslie had lured from the little negro settlement in the towns.h.i.+p of Oro, a few miles from Algonquin. She felt the responsibility of her position fully, and showed a marked interest in the affairs of every one of the congregation. But of all living things she loved Lawyer Ed most. His presence never failed to put her in the highest spirits, and his bachelorhood was her perennial joke.

”Ya.s.sum,” he answered, hanging his head shyly, ”if you done hab me, Viney. I bin wantin' you for years, but I bin too bashful.”

Viney screamed and flapped her red ap.r.o.n at him. ”You go 'long, you triflin' lawya-man!” she cried, going off into a gale of giggles; but just then the study door opened, the minister's head came out, and the cook's vanished.

”Ah, I thought it was you, Edward, by the joyful noise,” said Dr.

Leslie, smiling. He took his visitor by the hand and drew him in.

”Come away, come. I was hoping you would drop in this morning.”

They sat down, the minister in his arm-chair before his desk. Lawyer Ed balanced on the arm of another, protesting that he must not stay.

It was his way when he dropped in at the Manse and remained a couple of hours or so, to bustle about, hat and stick in hand, changing from one chair to another, to a.s.sure himself that he was just going. Dr. Leslie understood, and did not urge him to sit down.

Though not an old man, the minister had seen Lawyer Ed grow up from the position of a scholar in his Sabbath School, and quite the most riotous and mischievous one there, to the superintendency of it, and to a seat in the session; and he had a special fatherly feeling towards his youngest elder. Dr. Leslie was the only man in Algonquin, too, folk said, whom Lawyer Ed feared, and to whose opinion he deferred without argument.

”And have you heard from Angus this morning,--or the wee lad?”

”Archie came home about an hour ago. The little rascal's all right, except for a sore arm. I guess he nearly put it out of joint, paddling. Angus was better, too; but I'm bothered about Angus, Dr.

Leslie. That's what I came in for.”

He moved about the room, fingering ornaments, picking up books and laying them down again.

”Archie Blair says the anxiety was so bad for his heart, that he's got to stop work right away, for all summer anyway, and perhaps longer.

And his place is all planted, and yesterday, at my advice, he put a mortgage on it.”

He stopped before his minister and looked at him with appealing, troubled eyes. ”I feel as if I shouldn't have let him, but I didn't antic.i.p.ate this.”

Dr. Leslie sat drumming his fingers on the table, his face very grave.

”We can't see Angus McRae want, Edward. We're all indebted to him for something--every one of the session, and the minister most of all.”

”The session!” Lawyer Ed jumped off the arm of the sofa where he had just perched. ”There's an idea. If you laid it before them, they'd do something; and J. P. and I'll push it and Archie Blair will help.”

The minister shook his head. ”The session is a big body, Edward, and--” he smiled,--”it has wives and daughters. This must not be talked about. If we help Angus, we mustn't kill him at the same time by hurting his Highland pride.”

Lawyer Ed whacked a sofa cus.h.i.+on impatiently with his cane.

”There it is, of course! Hang Scotchmen, anyway! You can't treat them like human beings. That abominable thing they call their pride--always clogs your wheels whichever way you go.”

”Don't revile the tree from which you sprung, Edward,” said the Scotchman, smiling.

”Thank the Lord, the limb I grew on had a few good green Irish shamrocks mixed with the thistles. If Angus had been as fortunate we'd have him out of distress to-morrow.”