"I mean," continued Captain Elisha, "do you care for him ENOUGH?"Enough to live with him all your life, and see him every day, and be to him what a true wife ought to be? See him, not with his company manners on or in his automobile, but at the breakfast table, and when he comes home tired and cross, maybe. When you've got to be forbearin' and forgivin' and--""He is one of my oldest and best friends--" she interrupted. Her uncle went on without waiting for her to end the sentence.
"I know," he said. "One of the oldest, that's sure. But friendship, 'cordin' to my notion, is somethin' so small in comparison that it hardly counts in the manifest. Married folks ought to be friends, sartin sure; but they ought to be a whole lot more'n that. I'm an old bach, you say, and ain't had no experience.
That's true; but I've been young, and there was a time when _I_ made plans . . . However, she died, and it never come to nothin'. But IKNOW what it means to be engaged, the right kind of engagement. It means that you don't count yourself at all, not a bit. You're ready, each of you, to give up all you've got--your wishes, comfort, money and what it'll buy, and your life, if it should come to that, for that other one. Do you care for Malcolm Dunn like that, Caroline?"She answered defiantly.
"Yes, I do," she said.
"You do. Well, do you think he feels the same way about you?""Yes," with not quite the same promptness, but still defiantly.
"You feel sartin of it, do you?"
She stamped her foot. "Yes! yes! YES!" she cried. "Oh, DO say what you came to say, and end it!"Her uncle rose to his feet.
"Why, I guess likely I've said it," he observed. "When two people care for each other like that, they OUGHT to be married, and the sooner the better. I knew that you'd been lonesome and troubled, maybe; and some of the friends you used to have had kind of dropped away--busy with other affairs, which is natural enough--and, you needin' sympathy and companionship, I was sort of worried for fear all this had influenced you more'n it ought to, and you'd been led into sayin' yes without realizin' what it meant. But you tell me that ain't so; you do realize. So all I can say is that I'm awful glad for you. God bless you, my dear! I hope you'll be as happy as the day is long."His niece gazed at him, bewildered and incredulous. This she had NOT expected.
"Thank you," she stammered. "I did not know--I thought--""Of course you did--of course. Well, then, Caroline, I guess that's all. I won't trouble you any longer. Good-by."He turned toward the door, but stopped, hesitated, and turned back again.
"There is just one thing more," he said solemnly. "I don't know's I ought to speak, but--I want to--and I'm goin' to. And I want you to believe it! I do want you to!"He was so earnest, and the look he gave her was so strange, that she began to be alarmed.
"What is it?" she demanded.
"Why--why, just this, Caroline. This is a tough old world we live in. Things don't always go on in it as we think they'd ought to.
Trouble comes to everybody, and when it all looks right sometimes it turns out to be all wrong. If--if there should come a time like that to you and Steve, I want you to remember that you've got me to turn to. No matter what you think of me, what folks have made you think of me, just remember that I'm waitin' and ready to help you all I can. Any time I'm ready--and glad. Just remember that, won't you, because . . . Well, there! Good-by, Good-by!"He hurried away. She stood gazing after him, astonished, a little frightened, and not a little disturbed and touched. His emotion was so evident; his attitude toward her engagement was so different from that which she had anticipated; and there was something in his manner which she could not understand. He had acted as if he pitied her. Why? It could not be because she was to marry Malcolm Dunn. If it were that, she resented his pity, of course. But it could not be that, because he had given her his blessing. What was it? Was there something else; something that she did not know and he did? Why was he so kind and forbearing and patient?
All her old doubts and questionings returned. She had resolutely kept them from her thoughts, but they had been there, in the background, always. When, after the long siege, she had at last yielded and said yes to Malcolm, she felt that that question, at least, was settled. She would marry him. He was one whom she had known all her life, the son of the dearest friend she had; he and his mother had been faithful at the time when she needed friends.
As her husband, he would protect her and give her the affection and companionship she craved. He might appear careless and indifferent at times, but that was merely his manner. Had not Mrs. Dunn told her over and over again what a good son he was, and what a kind heart he had, and how he worshiped her? Oh, she ought to be a very happy girl! Of course she was happy. But why had her uncle looked at her as he did? And what did he mean by hinting that when things looked right they sometimes were all wrong? She wished Malcolm was with her then; she needed him.
She heard the clang of the elevator door. Then the bell rang furiously. She heard Edwards hasten to answer it. Then, to her amazement, she heard her brother's voice.
"Caroline!" demanded Stephen. "Caroline! Where are you?"He burst into the room, still wearing his coat and hat, and carrying a traveling bag in his hand.
"Why, Steve!" she said, going toward him. "Why, Steve! what--"He was very much excited.
"Oh!" he exclaimed, "you're all right then! You are all right, aren't you?
"All right? Why shouldn't I be all right? What do you mean? And why are you here?"He returned her look of surprise with one of great astonishment.
"Why am I here?" he repeated.
"Yes. Why did you come from New Haven?"
