“I see you haven’t changed an iota in
a quarter of a century, Rachel.” This
was intended to be another jest. “Ask ahead:
everything but my domestic affairs is at your service.”
“Try to be serious,” I said. “And
tell me this: has your firm made any plans for
a house recently, for a Doctor Walker, at Casanova?”
“Yes, we have.”
“Where was it to be built? I have a reason
for asking.”
“It was to be, I believe, on the Armstrong place.
Mr. Armstrong himself consulted me, and the inference
was—in fact, I am quite certain—the
house was to be occupied by Mr. Armstrong’s
daughter, who was engaged to marry Doctor Walker.”
When the architect had inquired for the different
members of my family, and had finally rung off, I
was certain of one thing. Louise Armstrong was
in love with Halsey, and the man she was going to
marry was Doctor Walker. Moreover, this decision
was not new; marriage had been contemplated for some
time. There must certainly be some explanation—but
what was it?
That day I repeated to Louise the telegram Mr. Warton
had opened.
She seemed to understand, but an unhappier face I
have never seen. She looked like a criminal
whose reprieve is over, and the day of execution approaching.
LIDDY GIVES THE ALARM
The next day, Friday, Gertrude broke the news of her
stepfather’s death to Louise. She did
it as gently as she could, telling her first that
he was very ill, and finally that he was dead.
Louise received the news in the most unexpected manner,
and when Gertrude came out to tell me how she had
stood it, I think she was almost shocked.
“She just lay and stared at me, Aunt Ray,”
she said. “Do you know, I believe she
is glad, glad! And she is too honest to pretend
anything else. What sort of man was Mr. Paul
Armstrong, anyhow?”
“He was a bully as well as a rascal, Gertrude,”
I said. “But I am convinced of one thing;
Louise will send for Halsey now, and they will make
it all up.”
For Louise had steadily refused to see Halsey all
that day, and the boy was frantic.
We had a quiet hour, Halsey and I, that evening, and
I told him several things; about the request that
we give up the lease to Sunnyside, about the telegram
to Louise, about the rumors of an approaching marriage
between the girl and Doctor Walker, and, last of all,
my own interview with her the day before.
He sat back in a big chair, with his face in the shadow,
and my heart fairly ached for him. He was so
big and so boyish! When I had finished he drew
a long breath.
“Whatever Louise does,” he said, “nothing
will convince me, Aunt Ray, that she doesn’t
care for me. And up to two months ago, when
she and her mother went west, I was the happiest fellow
on earth. Then something made a difference:
she wrote me that her people were opposed to the marriage;
that her feeling for me was what it had always been,
but that something had happened which had changed
her ideas as to the future. I was not to write
until she wrote me, and whatever occurred, I was to
think the best I could of her. It sounded like
a puzzle. When I saw her yesterday, it was the
same thing, only, perhaps, worse.”
